Murder: Almost Perfect
by hippiechick2112
Summary: When Nurse Winifred Curtis is found murdered, the evidence points to Margaret and eventually to most of the personnel. With the camp accused, the 4077th team wonders who truly committed the crime. However, one man will stop it nothing to solve the mystery.
1. Nurse Winifred Curtis

**Murder: Almost Perfect**

**Note and Disclaimer: Obviously, I still don't own _M*A*S*H_ and its characters, plots and storylines (CBS and 20th Century Fox do) and have picked up its characters, as everybody else has done, and write aplenty. However, this story will not include my first OC (has new characters though), but will be a mystery with some Margaret/Hawkeye overtones. Of course, everything can't be perfect and sometimes, people aren't always as they seem…**

* * *

She had been a pain in everybody's behind, as Colonel Potter always said many times over, ever since she was transferred from Tokyo General to the 4077th in war torn Uijongbu, South Korea. First Lieutenant Winifred Curtis was picked up (after many units requested that she not come to theirs) by Major Margaret Houlihan, following her report on an urgent request for more nurses. Much to everybody's utter surprise, however, instead of peace and working order, this particular nurse turned the unit upside-down. While people thought that the Swamp was full of pranksters and insane and merry troublemakers, they had not seen Nurse Curtis in action.

Tokyo General, in charge of many things (one of them not being unprofessional and disgusting nurses) had given up on Nurse Curtis after a run-in with the law without a word as to which law was broken (as her records have indicated). They had then politely given the nurse a boot to the door without much comment on the matter. However, with the 4077th short a few nurses, the Army happily picked Nurse Curtis up and planted her where she was needed: Korea.

Although, for Major Margaret Houlihan, the Regular Army nurse, this nurse was much too much for her to handle. Even with gossiping and selfish nurses, Winifred Curtis was one nurse she could have no control over.

Calming down greatly after the departure of Major Frank Burns and from her divorce from Colonel Donald Penobscott, Margaret could barely believe that she had another problem to deal with, and it wasn't just the "immature" surgeons of the Swamp, Captains Hawkeye Pierce and BJ Hunnicutt (not counting the insufferable and snobbish Major Charles Winchester). Nurse Curtis was coarse, unethical and a danger to the camp, she found out quickly. Even as soon as the jeep rolled into the compound, carrying this particular nurse without a salute and a soft sniffle of snobbery, Margaret found another challenge, as well as a woman with lunacy on her mind, on her hands.

First, small things began to happen, much like the pranks Hawkeye and BJ pull. Little things, like personal objects, papers and even Radar's teddy bear, disappeared and reappeared. Lunch was spilled on the officers and even tents fell apart without reason. Naturally, Margaret found blame on the captains and yelled at them fiercely (they denied everything with a smile and a drink), but when surgical instruments were hanging mockingly on the Post-Op ceiling, spelling out obscene words and depicting wild gestures, the major knew she had another menace on her hands. The finger pointing was unanimous, even from Colonel Potter down the lowliest private. It had to be the new nurse who sneered at the staff and stabbed the patients brutally.

Of course, it was obvious. Winifred Curtis did not take her duties quite seriously, but did them well enough that even Margaret could not complain. However, she out drank everybody and was intoxicated on-duty sometimes. She showed disrespect to her fellow officers and even to the enlisted men, showing how dangerous and violent she could be anywhere when she was ordered to stop. It was to the point where Hawkeye even pulled his rank on her, refusing to even ask her out on a date.

Nurse Curtis' past life and military duties became mysterious and the talk of the camp for a while, but that was silenced when Colonel Potter came up with nothing to quiet the rumors and suggested everybody do the same: forget about it. She was here to stay and to spread more gossip about her would be adding fuel to the fire.

Even Nurse Curtis' quiet romance with the new corpsman, Sergeant Aaron Church, didn't endear her to many either. He was just as bad as she was, most said in the Mess Tent, and everybody tended to stay away from them, leaving them their own table in a dark, forlorn corner when meals were served. He, as well, had a blank record, but he also did his duties without complaint, although Corporal Klinger had claimed he had stolen from his infamous and glorious "Klinger Collection" and sold it on the Black Market. After no evidence had come up after the preliminary searches, the clothes were finally found in the latrine and dutifully given the proper funeral by Klinger himself.

"I don't know what to do with her, Colonel," Margaret confessed quietly to Colonel Potter in the Mess Tent about three weeks after Nurse Curtis had arrived to the 4077th, the heat bringing out the worst in everybody. "I've threatened to punish her in every way if she ever showed up to the OR drunk again. I've asked her to stop joking around because the doctors in the Swamp do it enough. I've even asked her to stop using the OR instruments in a mocking way!"

"It's more like she's a bully and not a jokester though," Nurse Kellye added, coming with Margaret to provide back up.

"Furthermore," Margaret continued, with a fast pace to her own words, "I would like to know the true reason as to why Tokyo General got rid of her and the Army transferred her here instead of some more competent nurses. Colonel, there seem to be holes in her records, things that the Army is not telling us. Lines are blacked out. Personal information is not provided. And I need answers and I need them _now_. Who _is_ Nurse Winifred Curtis and what is she doing here in Korea?"

"I'll do what I can, Major," Colonel Potter replied, putting his hands up to slow her down, quiet her down before she grew more agitated. "However, you need to hold your horses. Calm down. Sit down with the lieutenant. Try to talk with her about what's eating her. Maybe she's upset about something and that's why she's acting out."

However, even Colonel Potter doubted his own words.

"Or maybe she needs a psychiatrist," Kellye suggested quietly, looking over at the corner table where the nurse and Sergeant Church were, giggling behind their hands.

"If nothing is accomplished, maybe we can put Sidney on the horn," the colonel mended quickly. "It's possible she has a problem that nobody can figure out. She might even need to talk to somebody. Hell, if she was another Hawkeye and was only behaving the way she is because she can't stand it here like the rest of us, then we can breathe easier."

Margaret sighed with frustration at the lack of action, but, as always, agreed with the colonel on the _course_ of action. Ever since Henry Blake had left the 4077th, there has been less call for discipline in the camp and everybody usually didn't do anything that merited them being sent to Seoul for a trial or having a black mark on their records. However, Margaret did not like her new nurse one bit and did not think she needed to be talked to. She thought that her new charge was plain rude and needed serious discipline unlike the black-haired Hawkeye, whose jokes were usually harmless and unmilitary enough.

In any case, Margaret needed to try what Colonel Potter advised and attempted to talk to Winifred Curtis. That night seemed like a good idea, since Nurse Curtis was often with the other nurses in their tent reading a book (and scowling if somebody tried talking to her, so all left her alone), and it was when the both of them were off-duty. Margaret knew the duty rooster well and used it to her advantage.

With a nervous flicker in her stomach and a slight irritation buzzing in her ears as the Korean summer evening bore down on her, Margaret walked over to the nurses' tent later that evening after dinner was served in the Mess Tent. Knowing that there would perhaps be witnesses did not make the head nurse any less annoyed. She only wanted to get that talk over with, hoping that the other nurses would not be too hard on her afterward. She also wished that her tough personality would soften when she saw the reasons why Nurse Curtis was behaving the way she did.

Knocking on the door and being let in by Nurse Cain, Margaret went to that one corner of the tent she needed to be at, where Winifred Curtis was sitting. As usual, she was reading a book, her smile of pleasure turning into a frown of disdain as soon as she saw the major stand before her as shadow overlooked light. Margaret's hands were even trembling as she tried not to put them on her hips in a display of authority and stubbornness.

"What now, Major?" Curtis sneered as she threw her book to one side on top of a footlocker to the left of her. "Were the bedpans cleaned out to your satisfaction? Or did I miss giving a man his sponge bath during my shift?"

Margaret held back her temper, instead sitting next to the nurse as she put a friendly arm around the nurse's shoulders. "Listen please, Lieutenant. I want to be your friend here –"

From across the tent, another nurse snickered and almost laughed.

"– and I just want to know what's wrong. Is there something Colonel Potter or I need to know? Are you happy here? Because you know, I am here for you, as well as our CO."

"You can cut out the sympathetic talk here, Major, because I don't need it here." Curtis crudely pushed Margaret's arm off her shoulders in a defiant shove. "I'm here in Korea and that's it. I don't care where I am or the people I'm assigned to work with. It's all just another place this stupid Army wants me in. Who gives a damn anyway? People here are making me sick!"

"Who?" Margaret asked softly, her temper still in check.

"The wounded, that's who! Men who go to war and have to get blown up. Jesus Christ, it's like a circus show here. They whine and complain and ask us to do the simplest things, just like little children. Well, Major, I didn't come all the way to Korea to be a nurse. I came here –"

"I don't _care_ what the hell you came here for!" The head nurse finally heard enough and got up, staring down at the nurse before her as her arms reached their usual destination on her hips. "You were picked to work at the finest M*A*S*H unit in Korea. I don't know who you think you _are_ when you say that it's a 'circus show', but it most certainly isn't. We're here in Korea for a reason, Lieutenant, and if you don't like it, you can get your little behind out of here and sulk someplace else like some sad sack. I will _not_ tolerate this kind of behavior in my nurses!"

There was silence in the tent. Even the other nurses were stunned into it.

"Fine, Major Houlihan," Curtis replied quietly, almost shocked into total silence as she was reprimanded by her superior officer. "I'll go. I'll go and get transferred out of here. Go ahead. Get the paperwork. I _dare_ you. You'll be sorry that you did. You'll regret it."

"I don't think so, Lieutenant. You've caused enough trouble here as it is and this place has been putting its affairs on hold since you came here. I'll soon be kicking your little behind if you don't get it in gear."

Curtis got up, obviously disgusted. "Move out of my way then, Major. I'll _help_ you get that paperwork all settled."

"I don't need it. I can get it from Corporal O'Reilly myself." Margaret's voice had become oddly cold, stiff even as she finally agreed to this nurse getting out of here. She wanted to scream even more at the nurse, but declined the invitation, however tempting it was to do it again.

"Then, you can wish me dead," Curtis hissed in her ear as she passed the major to head outside. "You can only say that you want me dead and I'll get on my very way."

"What an awful thing to think!" Margaret screeched. "I wouldn't wish you dead, Lieutenant. I wouldn't wish that for _anyone_. I do wish that you'd cut off your own nasty words with your mouth though!"

"As you wish," Curtis replied, bowing her head sardonically to the major and then leaving the nurses' tent as her superior officer fumed and felt the humiliation of the argument, all on front of the other nurses.

_Fine. We don't need her here. It's too much of a nuisance, much more so than Hawkeye Pierce._

Margaret's thoughts then made her smile as she thought another transfer sweet, a balm on the unit's sweaty bodies as they hear of their troublemaker's disappearance. It even made the major feel better inside as she, too, exited the tent and went to the office where Radar was, intent on filling out those papers quickly. He happily gave them to her, also knowing that the tension in the camp would die down significantly when Nurse Curtis was gone.

However, it was the last Margaret Houlihan saw of Winifred Curtis. It was said that the nurse headed to the minefields to be alone, but nobody could be so sure, not even Sergeant Church, who did not see her after dinner in the Mess Tent. By morning, though, when the wounded came in from the front lines, the nurses could not find their horrendous tentmate. Her belongings were still scattered where they were the night before.


	2. Where Could She Have Gone?

"Where could she possibly be, Major?" Colonel Potter asked Margaret after the OR session was over. In his office later that day, he and Margaret sat down, discussing the strange circumstances in which the nurse had left and what the head nurse talked to her about. "You said that one moment, she was there in the tent, and the next, she was gone. Where did she go? Did you see where? Do you know?"

"No, Sir," Margaret replied, once more angry with the nurse when she thought about the night before. "I tried talking to her last night, but she…no, it was like she did not like authority. She mocked this unit, the wounded and the people who work here with her words, I feel. She agreed and even encouraged to a transfer and I said I could get the papers without her help. Then, she said the most bizarre thing, asking me if I wish if she was dead! I don't understand her, Colonel."

"Do you think she's suicidal then, Major?"

The question hung in the air, but Margaret found that she almost could not answer it. She even most laughed at the idea had it not surprised her. Winifred Curtis, suicidal? It was laughable!

"No," she managed to say, shocked at the question. "It might have been that she was being spiteful and wanted people to see me be vindictive towards her. She wanted to be a martyr, a victim of some sort, and to have some attention from the others. Well, I'm not allowing it. Winifred Curtis is not anything of that sort. She's –"

"Major, I get the point. And I would tend to agree with you, but Lieutenant Curtis is not here to defend herself at all. I only have your word right now. I see no other nurses behind you."

Margaret, aware of that none of her nurses stood behind her (save for Kellye a few times maybe), protested vigorously. "Colonel, you don't understand, nor do you show me that you trust my word. No, listen to me! By talking to her, being friendly to her, I saw her turn right around and denounce me in front of the other nurses. I was insulted and so were the people involved."

"Margaret –"

"No, this isn't a matter of not being friends with any of my nurses or none of them confining in me." Margaret put her hand up in defense. "Colonel, I can handle my nurses perfectly fine. I put this one to your attentions because…because, well, I needed advice. And because she was causing a huge disruption in this hospital unit and I didn't want you thinking that I wasn't doing my job or not disciplining her. I was trying to help her, but she pushed me away."

"Did I hear that the scorpion has left us in this desert?" Hawkeye Pierce, coming into the office with only the barest of his Army uniform on, asked the people before him. He then sat down next to Margaret, blatantly showing off his underclothes and his red robe. "She has quite a sting, all right, and a bite in the back to boot. Ack, even the bravest of all men could not be near that creature of monstrosity."

"Except Sergeant Church," Margaret reminded him.

"Children, children, must we listen to vile gossip?" Colonel Potter asked with a sigh.

"This vile gossip happens to be true," Hawkeye protested. "Colonel, this woman rejected me –"

"Oh, you poor thing," Margaret muttered as an interruption.

"Never fear for me, Margaret, for I always have a back-up plan," Hawkeye reassured her gently, then turning back to the colonel. "Now, Colonel, this woman not only rejected me, but implied that I, the cleanest of all of your bachelor surgeons – the Chiefest of the Chief of them all – have passed everything else, like the creepy-crawlies, from yours truly to every nurse in this camp. She even said that Margaret here has the worst case of all and that I was having an affair with her during her marriage."

"She said _what_? Oh, Colonel, that little weasel will –"

Colonel Potter stood up. "Margaret, Hawkeye, enough. We have a sufficient amount of problems on our hands, the rumor mill of this camp the least of it. Now, we need to find this nurse and ask what her problem is before _thinking_ of transferring her. Remember, Major, I outrank you and need to put my John Hancock on that paper for approval before she vamooes out of here."

"Yes, of course, Sir," Margaret replied meekly, "but seeing as how I tried talking to her last night, shouldn't somebody else more…I don't know, _popular_ or _practical_…than I am be the one who will talk with her?"

"Maybe Father Mulcahy can?" Hawkeye suggested seriously.

"No offense, Pierce, I don't think the Padre can handle her by the way everybody says she's acting," Colonel Potter pointed out. "As a matter of fact, I think Father Mulcahy will think her as an act of sacrilege if he listened to her talk."

"Hey, that's my line." Hawkeye's blue eyes sparkled with pride.

"I've been around you too long, Pierce. You rub off on me sometimes."

"Can we can please get back to the situation at hand, namely _my_ missing nurse?" Margaret asked with annoyance in her voice. "Colonel, she's still missing. At this point, we can look for her now or consider her AWOL and/or missing and write up a report."

"I vote for searching for the little wimp," came Charles' voice as he, too, came into the office to listen to the conversation. He moved his hand like a fan, cooling him from the heat, but it seemed futile with too many people already packed into Potter's office.

"Seeing as how she unmanned you without a word of insult in return, Charles, I'd say that was pretty nice of you to say that," BJ added as he came in right behind Charles, also waving his hand as a fan. "That Mess Tent confrontation was pure entertainment. I tell you, it was a_ perfect_ show."

"Considering, Hunnicutt, that she clawed at your back one night most…sexually…while you were sleeping and very avidly dreaming about your wife doing that to you, I'd say you better shut your mouth!"

"Really, Charles, do you know how to –?"

"Oh, look, an office party!" Hawkeye chuckled, interrupting his bunkmate.

"Colonel!" Margaret yelled as she looked from one Swampman to the other.

"Ok, lady and germs, we still have a lot of wounded men in Post-Op and a missing, chaotic nurse," Colonel Potter yelled, sighing and thinking about how rowdy this particular crowd was. "I have two to search for her. Do I have any more takers?"

"I'll take a search and spin the wheel for ten," Hawkeye said confidently.

"Margaret?"

Colonel Potter looked at the head nurse, eying her with questions. Granted, she was frustrated enough with one of her nurses missing, but it also made her nervous, he could tell. There was a war around them and the enemy was three miles away from them, three short miles in which Nurse Curtis could have been mistaken for somebody else (like the enemy), taken prisoner or even left for dead…none of which, the colonel reasoned rationally, she deserved, even if she was the scorn of the 4077th.

"Ok, go search for her," the head nurse relented after a minute of everybody looking at her for the final verdict. "But if we don't find her in forty-eight hours, I'd say to write up a report, either MIA or AWOL, depending on what we find."

Colonel Potter nodded. "A good decision, I think. Now, boys and girl, do you think I should call out a party now?"

"Evening would be ideal, when it's cooler, but I don't think the men would like working in the dark with flashlights the enemy nearby," BJ said.

"True, true, but Hunnicutt, it'll be just as hot at night than now," Charles pointed out.

"All good points, but if we take it slowly and take breaks often, the men will be ok," Colonel Potter decided. "Radar, make sure that the first search parties have water, hats and are well-covered in the heat!"

Radar, coming in as Colonel Potter called for him, recited the orders at the same time as the commanding officer before him. Going to carry out the orders, the company of fellow officers snickered and almost laughed at the hilarity of the company clerk still knowing what everybody wanted without asking and reciting it verbatim.

"That's more like it," the colonel said, seeing the smiles, the heat almost forgotten. "Now, head out. I'm sure the men will find something soon."

"I think we already have, Sir," Klinger claimed as he came into the office suddenly, some of a uniform in his hairy hands, his white gloves (matching his light grey gown) in the other hand. "Before Radar could ask us to go out, I found this near the chopper pad. I think it might to do with Lieutenant Curtis' disappearance."

Klinger then handed his CO a jacket – too hot to use it, for sure – with Winifred Curtis' name on the front. Margaret recognized it as Potter turned it around in his hands, showing everybody what was on it. She dimly remembered that the woman had it tied around her waist when she left the nurses' tent the night before. Why, she could not discern.

But what everybody in the office saw on it were flecks of blood on the back of it, some splatters and drops, as if it had lightly sprinkled on the object. When Colonel Potter dared to turn it so everybody could see it, Margaret saw that, on the sleeves, were streaks of it, as if somebody had wiped their hands on it or had wiped up a mess someplace else.

"What are you thinking, Sir?" BJ dared to ask as everybody stared at the jacket, evidence that somebody had obviously done something with it or the nurse had done something to herself.

Or, even more sinister in everybody's mind, was the fact that something might have happened to the nurse in the evilest way. It might be their only explanation to her disappearance.

"I think we might have a wounded or dead nurse on our hands," Colonel Potter replied. "Or I think somebody might have put it there to be found, to tell us something."

"Like Nurse Curtis might have been killed," Margaret agreed, shuddering as she said it.


	3. Out With It!

Klinger, Igor and Rizzo were out near the minefields later that day, searching for Lieutenant Curtis or what other things of hers that were left behind in the wake of her disappearance. All three, covered head to toe in light clothing material and carrying canteens of water for their breaks in the shade, were complaining all the way around about the heat in-between looking carefully around the fields and calling out the nurse's name. So far, other than the obvious find of the lieutenant's jacket, nothing else was discovered.

"Lieutenant, where are you?" Igor yelled loudly, his voice echoing off the hills surrounding the camp. "Come on, I have to serve up dinner soon!"

"Shut up! Do you want them North Koreans to hear ya?" Rizzo asked him.

"I think that's the point if we want some relief from this heat," Klinger said, almost tripping over his dress. "Dammit, I see nothing here but the Korean landscape. Why can't we move on?"

"Because we were ordered to stay here by Major Houlihan?" Igor questioned almost sheepishly.

"Because we was ordered to be lookin' out here until we find somethin'?" Rizzo added in an obvious sneer of disgust, his voice muffled by the protective clothing.

"Right, but we can't just stand around here in this desert heat and suffer while some dumb blonde nurse runs off without a trace except her jacket covered in blood," Klinger replied to the both of them. "If I hated Lieutenant Curtis back then with her rudeness, then I hate her even more now for taking us out here in the sun. To have her leave like that, after giving Major Houlihan an attitude that I would never give, leaves me no choice but to curse her."

"What? To have a camel spit in her meal everyday in her life?" Rizzo joked insultingly, taking out a half-smoked cigar and lighting it as he moved some of his protective gear out of his face.

"No, and – hey, don't you think it's too hot to smoke?" Klinger looked incredulous that Rizzo was disobeying orders by taking off the light Army material so that he could smoke the cigar.

"What nobody else knows won't hurt them, right?"

"Yeah, but –"

"Hey, you two, I think I found something! And I think I can serve dinner tonight too, when the colonel finds out that we have this."

Igor caught the both of their attentions by yelling in an excited tone. Walking away from the argument, the private ignored the upcoming mudslinging and ambled away from the minefields, following a cleared pathway that led down the hill to Rosie's Bar. In the dirt below his feet, Igor spotted something that resembled dark, red-brown dots, some of them dark, metallic-smelling lines. Either way, the private thought that the _thing_ – _liquid_, it looked like – was ominous and he needed to look further into it.

Rizzo (putting out his cigar on the ground) and Klinger had stopped their squabble and walked over to where Igor was, pulling apart their protective clothing to see what Igor had found. All three then stared at it, as if it was going to move, as if they shouldn't follow it, but had to because it was obviously something they needed in order to find the nurse.

"What is it?" Rizzo finally asked, the first to speak after being called over by Igor.

"It looks like blood." Klinger saw the looks he received from the other two as he mentioned the word. "Hey, that's what my nose is telling me. I've smelled it before and you two should have also. And I thought the two of you would have known what it is by now."

"Should we follow it?" Igor looked to Klinger, the obvious leader in the search.

"No kidding, we should," Klinger replied, wrapping up his face again and walking down the pathway, Igor and Rizzo following closely, as if something was going to come out and scare them. The two were obviously frightened, the sudden disappearance of a nurse turning from a futile search to a scary one as they followed the blood trail down the hill.

And that seemed to be the least of their worries.

Walking and then running with anxious abandon as the drops and smears on the ground turned darker and larger in quantity, the three enlisted men followed the trail down the hill until they were way behind Rosie's Bar, where the blood trailed ended and in a location where the locals gathered sometimes. Then, using Klinger's nose, they picked up the trail again, another path that led way out of the camp, closer and closer into enemy territory to the west. Soon enough, they were deep in the woods, still following the sticky substance.

Suddenly, about two miles away from the camp and four miles away from the enemy lines, it stopped abruptly with nothing else in sight.

"What now?" Rizzo asked Klinger sarcastically, seeing that the corporal was still sniffing the air for more blood…or a body, grimly thought by all. "We've been out in this damn heat for two hours now, followin' somethin' you says was blood. Now, Klinger, you better tell us somethin' soon or I'll unwrap that –"

"Found some rope," Igor quietly interrupted, still in shock about tracking down the source of the blood. Under some bushes as he leaned in (noticing more of the blood they saw earlier), he saw a rope covered with the liquid they usually see daily. "And it's long, so let's follow it."

"Great idea, genius," Klinger quickly replied. "We might find something else."

"What about them MP's?" Rizzo asked, becoming spooked again as he saw the rope. "Maybe they can git this job done right."

"Colonel Potter said –"

"Klinger, I'm startin' to not care anymore! Let's get outta here and –"

"Find the body," Igor finished as Rizzo and Klinger were arguing once more. He had followed the rope without them and found what they were looking for right behind those bushes.

Upon seeing the discovery and realizing its implications, Igor fell to his knees, vomiting at the sight. Rizzo only stared over his shoulder, frozen in fear, while Klinger saw it and ran back to the 4077th.

~00~

"Radar, let me in please! This is desperate – I mean, we found –"

Blocking the corporal's way to Potter's office, Radar stood his ground, angry that Klinger dared to have come at a bad time (when the CO was doing important paperwork and asked not to be disturbed). "Klinger, the colonel is busy right now –"

"Yeah, but we found the dead – well, decapitated body – of Lieutenant Curtis out there and –"

"What's going on here?" Margaret finally interrupted the two. Hearing the ruckus from Post-Op as she worked, she immediately ran from her duties to the office to solve the issue, expecting to see the men at each other's throats. "Klinger, you're supposed to be out there, looking for Nurse Curtis! Where are Rizzo and –?"

"We found her, Ma'am," Klinger replied in a panic, forgetting that he was being disrespectful to Margaret by interrupting. "Igor found her. See, we followed this trail of blood up from Rosie's and around for a few miles and Igor found this rope under the bushes and followed it and –"

"Klinger, your mouth is running faster than a salmon fish going upstream," Colonel Potter interrupted as he, too, came into the office space and listened to Klinger's account of how they found Nurse Curtis. "Now, tell us what you found!"

"We found her dead body…Sir! Her head had been cut off –"

"Oh, dear!" Father Mulcahy exclaimed as he ran into the office when hearing that Klinger had come back. He, too, had been worried about the disappearance and prayed for a good conclusion, but his hopes were dashed when he saw Klinger come back in a panic.

"– and the rope, yeah, it was…was under the bush, you see, and around her body. And the head was…was…was…"

"Out with it, Klinger!" BJ said when he also came into the office. He also had come out of Post-Op to hear the news.

"Well…well…the head was cut open by the mouth and it looks like the tongue was missing or something. The body was shot up. The gun is still there on the ground."

"Are the MP's there yet?" Margaret demanded, grief for the troublesome nurse the least of her worries (as well as Radar turning green from hearing everything and running from the office, possibly heading to the latrine). "You should have gotten them first, Klinger. This is important. This might be a murder…or the enemy killing one of my nurses!"

"Yeah, we got them all right, Major," Klinger replied quietly, collapsing on Radar's cot and throwing some of the light clothing off in a frustrated gesture. "Well, I did. I ran to the nearest station. One of them had to carry Igor and Rizzo out of there because they wouldn't get out of there. They're both more…shocked than I am right now."

"You did a good job, son," Colonel Potter only said, sitting down next to Klinger, putting a friendly arm around his shoulders. "Just let the MP's do theirs. You did what you could. And, most certainly, it wasn't the prettiest sight you could have seen."

"Yeah, well, Colonel…it most certainly wasn't quite something I had seen before. I had seen dead bodies, but not like that. Not mutilated like that."

"I understand, son."

For a while, everybody in the office was quiet, thinking…giving some small piece of respect to the dead. Lieutenant Curtis was not the nicest of nurses and, most of all, they remembered her as a snickering fool who should not have been with them. However, respect was respect and they had to give her that. She had died in the worst way and now, it was more of a matter of finding out how and why it happened.

A moment later, after everybody had been given each other space to silently grieve and perhaps think about the death, Hawkeye came in, intent on going to his shift, but instead wanting to talk about the body that was discovered before he saw more wounded bodies. The word passed quickly as Klinger came into the camp and informed the MP's, but the captain did not feel any real lament that the nurse had passed away. He regretted the feeling immediately afterward, but he could not help but mourn that another life was lost senselessly. He did not like Winifred Curtis, but he preferred that she was transferred someplace else than brutally dead.

"I heard the news," Hawkeye only said, heads turning to him at the almost-rude intrusion of their privacy. "The MP's have it handled, I heard too. But who's going to take care of Radar? I just passed him on the way to the latrine and he looked as green as paper money."

"Why don't you, Pierce?" Margaret sneered, angry that she lost a nurse.

"I would…if I could get my money's worth out of it and for being there!" Hawkeye retorted as he went past the people near the doors to Post-Op, ignoring their glances as he thought back to Winifred Curtis.


	4. Late Night Confessions

Later that night in her tent, Margaret sat down in front of her mirror, thinking sadly to herself. _Yes, the day has been eventful._ _And it's my fault that Nurse Curtis is dead. No matter that she was an idiot and was a drunk and irresponsible. She was _my_ nurse! I was supposed to protect her from this, but instead, anger got the better of me. She walked out and was murdered._

Her nurse – a degenerate in many ways, but a nurse of hers nonetheless – had been found dead after being missing for a little more than a day. Winifred Curtis had been shot in the heart and her head was taken off, almost sliced into two so that the tongue could be cut out. Klinger, Rizzo and Igor had found the body after following a trail of blood that started behind Rosie's and ended in the woods, where their temporary latrine usually was.

_Tsking_ over the grey strands in her hair again as she thought, the major sighed and stared at herself in the mirror. She was most tempted to brush them away with some dye, like she used to do when Frank Burns was romancing after her (and even when she was married to Donald Penobscott, appearances counted), but the time was not the best to think about looks and how old she was getting without the life she always dreamed about. She was more concerned about her nurses, more concerned that another one of them would be killed the same way. There was somebody out to get the women at the 4077th and she was sure about it.

But what Margaret Houlihan could not be sure about was who it could be. The camp's personnel didn't seem suspect to anything like murder, but the Army would not see it that way and she knew it.

_BJ and Hawkeye…they'll be looked it first. They've been known to be pranksters and the Army would think that they pulled some sick joke and it went wrong. But I know they wouldn't. They harmlessly hurt people, unless it's Charles. Then, it actually becomes fun._

A knock was then suddenly heard behind Margaret. It sounded urgent and fast, as if the person on the other side needed to desperately talk to her without anybody seeing him or her.

"Come in!" Margaret called out, picking up her hairbrush finally and giving her soft tresses their well-deserved combing. Concentrating on that activity, she did not notice the man that had come in behind her until she noticed his reflection in her mirror a few minutes after as he closed the door behind him.

"I thought you would want me to tell you the news instead of somebody else." The tall figure of Hawkeye Pierce entered Margaret's eyesight. Turning around to look at him, dropping her hairbrush and gasping at the sound of his voice, Margaret listened to him continue. "You have to know what happened, Margaret. And I thought I should tell you and nobody else."

"What do you mean?" she asked in a snap, startled and then confused at the intrusion.

Hawkeye walked towards her and then took the seat in the chair next to her, an angry scowl still on his face, still etched into the old wrinkles that the war had given him. "Margaret, didn't you hear? Don't you know about the report?"

"What report, Pierce? I've been here or at my shift all day today after hearing about one of my nurses being killed. Do you really think that I have the time or the energy to hear about some rumor about a report that might not even involve me or my nurses? I have much more important worries to think about than some stupid report."

"I think you might be interested." Hawkeye's scowl turned soft and sympathetic suddenly when he realized that she did not know what happened when he, Klinger and BJ were eavesdropping in Colonel Potter's office. "Margaret, don't you understand that you're in deeper trouble than you think?"

There, he had said it. He had blurted out what he and the others had heard from Colonel Potter's office concerning the autopsy and initial investigation of the body of Winifred Curtis and the crime scene.

Margaret turned to face Hawkeye. "Again, Pierce, I am confused. What do you mean about a report?"

"I was spying with BJ and Klinger," Hawkeye admitted, "and we were overhearing things in Colonel Potter's office. A medical examiner came to the 4077th when you came off your shift and would have reported to you too, except for what he found."

"But why wouldn't he?" Margaret demanded of him, angry to hear that something had happened and she was not there to see it or be informed about it, as was her position as head nurse.

"Because he and the MP's have found evidence that you murdered Winifred Curtis."

Margaret's head spun, shocked to hear those words, words she never thought to hear. "W-w-what?" was all she could stutter, all she could manage to say.

"I knew that you would want to hear it from me first," Hawkeye rushed out, nervous enough that he was in the suspect's tent. He knew that Margaret wasn't capable of doing such a deed, but the evidence all pointed to her. It was unbelievable, even to him.

"How would _you_ figure?" Margaret's shock then turned to rage, her hands making motions of anger as she stood up and screamed. "I could have been called and somebody else could tell me. I could have been asked to go Colonel Potter's office. I could have _easily_ defended myself. He knows that I didn't do it and neither does this camp! I wouldn't –"

"Margaret, Margaret…" Hawkeye managed to stand up and push Margaret back into her seat, sitting back down himself. "Most of this camp knows that you didn't murder this nurse, but it looks bad for you. I'm not supposed to tell you, but nobody else will, not even Colonel Potter."

"How?! Tell me!"

"Well, now that the evidence has become rumor around the camp, your detractors have a reason to hate you more and feed into it. Even the nurses who don't like you will use it to their advantage. And I know that there are many of them who are not pleased with you. None of them seem to be."

"Why are you so serious now, Pierce? Where's your jokester side? Have you lost your taste for jokes after seeing a dead nurse that nobody liked, somebody that even you couldn't even take to the supply room? Tired of being insulted and being told that you have a disease from dating too many women?"

"I'm just the messenger from the Swamp, how-de-hoo! We drew some straws and talked and I volunteered to go when nobody else would. Now, would you have preferred the MP's to come in here and accuse you of the crime and take you away without knowing what was going on?"

Margaret calmed down, embarrassed and humbled all of a sudden. "I can see your point. I'm sorry, Hawkeye. I didn't know, I didn't –"

"Well, now you know." Hawkeye stood up. "Now, I better get going before the trigger-happy goons come back around here and see your light on and two voices talking about _her_."

"Can't you just tell me what the evidence is?" Margaret asked as she, too, stood up and put her arms around the doctor's shoulders to get his attention again. "There must be some reason why I'm being accused of this crime."

"Margaret –"

"Tell me, Hawkeye. I can't be in the dark. I can't defend myself if I don't know anything."

"All right, all right. I can't see a damsel in distress like that and walk away." With Margaret following as the lead, Hawkeye sat down, his voice just a shade quieter than before. "As you know, the body was shot and the head cut open to take out the tongue. The evidence against you…well, first off, you were the last person to see her alive."

"And I was trying to be nice to her," Margaret pleaded.

"Margaret, I know you're innocent. I'm just the messenger, remember?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

"Yes, now…you were the last one to touch her, to see her alive, according to the nurses in the tent. There was no weapon found that split open her head, but Lieutenant Curtis was killed by a single bullet to her heart before her head was cut open to remove her tongue. The medical examiner, upon hearing about the nurse's behavior and how she alienated herself, thought that whoever did it was trying to symbolize silence and how the murderer did not like her choice of words and her talking."

"And?"

"The murder weapon found…the gun that killed Nurse Curtis was yours. It only had your slender fingerprints on it."

"What?!" Margaret stood up again, outraged.

"Margaret, calm down before we get caught here together. Now, shut up." Hawkeye then paused, continuing when the other was quiet. "It's the same gun you mentioned and reported as missing last week, I know. It was your father's, if I remember correctly."

"I am calm!" The major sat down again, panicking when she heard about her missing weapon being found at the scene of the crime. "See?"

Hawkeye looked at her, knowing that the next outburst was ready to come out when the time came. "Ok. Stop interrupting me then. Now, onto the next piece of evidence that points to you: _viola_, your hair. It appears that a huge chunk of it was tied together and stuffed into what was left of Nurse Curtis' mouth, as if to shut her up before she died. Your blood was also found at the scene of the crime, or, I should say, your blood _type_ was found at the scene of the crime. You had motive and anger. You don't have much love around the camp except for close circles, but not to that level of hatred."

"That's impossible!" Margaret yelled.

"Margaret –"

"Don't 'Margaret' me! You know that I'm innocent."

Hawkeye then saw the major break down for the first time in a long time in real tears. She usually had the tears of frustration when she was with Frank Burns, so he felt genuine pity towards her instead of anger. Granted, earlier, he was still pissed off about being in Korea and hearing of yet _another _senseless murder, but seeing his favorite nurse in a heap of molted fear put a stab in his heart. He felt remorseful, as if regretting all the pranks he pulled on her, and sighed.

"There, there, Margaret…it'll be ok," Hawkeye began uncertainly as he took Margaret's wet and gooey hands into his clean and warm ones. "We'll clear your name up and make sure everybody knows you're innocent."

"But nobody will after this," she sobbed.

"Shh, we have to," he reassured her. Soon, though, his uncertainty turned to annoyance as the PA told them that some late night wounded were in the compound.

"What are we going to do then?" Margaret continued to cry, slowing down as Hawkeye pulled her up. "I might be –"

"Don't think about the negative, but the positive," Hawkeye replied, knowing that there was more evidence against her, but he didn't tell her that. It seemed a little futile at the moment. "Come on, let's go."

Margaret smiled, her tears gone as the doctor wiped them away for her. Then, taking Hawkeye's hand when he offered it, she got up and walked out the door of her tent. As the two separated, Margaret found herself running in the direction of the action…

…only to see four MP's in her way, their guns raised to shoot at her if she moved.


	5. Something Hidden

"What is the _meaning_ of this, Major?" Colonel Potter yelled the next morning after the OR session as he met up with the MP's that arrested Margaret, his three tired doctors and Radar outside the door listening, waiting and wishing for good news. "That was my head nurse you are now holding under arrest in her tent. There is no way that it could be possible she murdered somebody. Now, do you mind _explaining_ this mess you've created in my unit?"

"Direct orders from Headquarters Seoul, Colonel," Major Floyd, the man in charge, replied smoothly as his three men flinched and moved towards the double doors, knowing the colonel's rage well enough (dealing with him enough times had made them slightly smarter). "The medical examiner clearly said that Nurse Curtis had been brutally beaten and murdered, her head…well, I won't get into that because we all know what happened. Now, the murder weapon has been known to belong to Major Houlihan and she didn't say it wasn't otherwise. The other evidence has been pointed in her direction. I'm sorry, Sir, but we do have our orders."

"Orders from who?" Potter demanded, his face turning redder and almost unreadable. "What other evidence?"

"I can't say, Sir…"

"Well, you better be able to tell me soon! I heard enough from your men already yesterday and cannot believe it. I can't hold up my unit. I can't afford to. Major Houlihan is –"

"Colonel, I'm sorry. I really am. I can't do anything about it. But we all have our orders because of the evidence from the scene and in areas from the body. Major Margaret Houlihan is to be held under arrest in her tent until further notice. Seoul might want her, Tokyo might want her even. We don't know yet. All we know is that we are to escort her to her next destination whenever those orders come in."

Colonel Potter sat down at his desk finally, after a moment of silence. He felt defeated, knowing that he could do nothing except demand and receive nothing. "All right then. I understand."

"He's giving up on Margaret? Just like that?" Hawkeye hissed at his co-conspirators when he heard Potter's reply, ignoring the responses from the major and the next argument that ensued because of it, the heat of it quite literally missing them. "He could have tied his gloves on tighter and punched him some more."

"The colonel can only do so much," BJ suggested, resignation on his face, shaking his head.

"Pierce, shut up!" Charles retorted almost too loudly.

"Shh, Sirs, I can't hear anything," Radar hissed, _shhh_ing them further when the three protested simultaneously.

"If your ears got any shorter –" Hawkeye started as another form of protest when the other two had quieted down.

"…and in that case, then, Colonel Potter, we'll be in touch," Major Floyd finished coldly after the fight with the CO, causing the four outside the doors to scatter in different directions as footsteps were heard behind that statement. While the doctors took to the paperwork on clipboards (Charles even stuck his head in Post-Op to check on a patient quickly before coming back into the office), Radar took to the typewriter, looking over reports before copying and typing them up carefully.

The four MP's then exited Colonel Potter's office, passing the doctors and company clerk and going outside, talking about shifts and who was watching Margaret (Major Floyd even laughed, mentioning how dangerous she could be). As soon as they did so (enraging Hawkeye, who knew the truth), the four in the office ran to Colonel Potter.

"There's nothing we can," Potter said as soon as he saw the four enter, looking up from his paperwork sadly and shaking his head, just as BJ had done moments before. Even the colonel's red face had cleared up. Tears had even looked like they made their way down his face very briefly.

"What do you mean, there's nothing we can do, Colonel?" BJ asked, confused.

"The evidence is against Margaret on all sides and the orders are to keep her under tent arrest until new orders come in," Potter replied calmly.

"But we know the major did nothing out of the ordinary," Charles added.

"How do we know that though, Winchester? Margaret was the last person to see Winifred Curtis alive in the nurses' tent. And, according to the nurses, the exchange was not pleasant, to say the least. The two had a rough time talking. Then, Nurse Curtis left, after asking Margaret if she wished her dead. Of course, Margaret said no."

"And you're just gonna give up on her, Colonel?" Hawkeye demanded loudly. "You're just gonna give up on her and watch Seoul and Tokyo tear her apart and destroy her life and her career?"

"Hawk, what _can_ we do?" BJ asked him, accepting what his CO had said. "If Colonel Potter can't soften the punishment or find out what's going on, I don't think we can."

"Yes, we can," Hawkeye answered with confidence.

"With what skills, Pierce? Last I heard, you were no detective." Charles sniffled, wiping his forehead with a sleeve as beads of sweat rolled down.

"Yes, he was…" Radar muttered, fleetingly remembering scenes of Colonel Blake taking apart tents and finding everybody's missing objects in Hawkeye's footlocker while the latter proved his innocence.

"Poor, dear Margaret…" Hawkeye moaned, ignoring Radar's comment, as if it wasn't heard.

"As if that would help 'poor, dear' Margaret, Radar?" Charles sighed.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen…if that is what you are," Potter cautioned them, his hands motioning for them to calm down, his eyes shifting left and right, as if frightened of something, remembering something said before. "I have work to do, as you can see. I suggest you leave now. I'll talk later, when things have calmed down and perhaps, the horses won't buck as much."

"I know when I've –" Hawkeye started.

"Come on, Hawk, let's hit the Swamp for a drink," BJ interjected, steering the captain – with Charles and Radar behind them – out the doors before another argument came up.

~00~

"Do you think that he's hiding something?" Hawkeye asked BJ later that evening in the Swamp after spending several hours laying around in the heat with nothing to do save for watching patients in Post-Op. Charles was nowhere to be seen, so it was relief to talk freely and without any criticism from the snobbish major.

"Who is hiding something and where?" BJ opened another letter addressed to him and absentmindedly replied to his bunkmate as he laughed softly over pictures of his daughter Erin and what she was doing with Peg.

"Colonel Potter, you know. The way he said that he could do nothing for Margaret worried me. And he dismissed us, just like that. He wasn't going to tell us what was bothering him."

BJ finally looked up from his letter, disturbed. "Hawk, maybe there _is_ nothing we _can_ do but support Margaret and tell her that we'll be there for her. We all know she didn't murder anybody. She's more than capable of defending herself, but that also can be used against her."

"What do you mean, Beej?" Hawkeye jumped up from his cot, looking slightly outraged and a little offended at the remark. "Are you telling me that anybody is capable of slipping on a bar of soap and hitting their face against a sink?"

"No, _no_, Hawkeye. What I mean is…Margaret is known to be feisty…independent…and even vicious and tough to many people. Who's to say that it can or cannot be used against her? I've seen her kick Frank around and he lived to see another sunny day. She's mentally beaten her nurses around and they lived. She's a tough woman."

"But who has _ever_ seen her with a weapon, much less use one against anybody?"

"She owns a gun and so far, she hasn't denied that fact. She also has not denied that it went missing last week. Not to mention, she and Frank Burns used to _arm_ the camp before Colonel Potter came in to command. They lined up cans next to the minefield and shot at them. Remember that?"

"_If_ she had been interrogated about those times and things, Beej, and we don't know –"

"Hawk, like the colonel said, there is nothing we can really do. If you really want to help Margaret, support her and be there, like I said before."

"Is that all you can say too?" Hawkeye asked fearfully, his anger gone and the pitiful tones almost there. "As if it'll be enough to stand at her court martial and admit to everybody that yes, in the past, she had been abusive to people, Regular Army and everything else. She had beaten men, especially Frank Burns, but has been compassionate, resourceful and even brave in the face of many dangers. I can't believe you can sit there, read a letter from your wife, and even –"

"All right, all right, Hawkeye, I'll help you investigate this," BJ sighed, putting his letter down finally and giving up the fight with his friend. Standing up, he also added, "But if this gets too sticky and we reach a dead end with the digging, I can't guarantee that I'll stick around. I would do anything for Margaret too, but I draw a line at lewd and dangerous nurses and the murderous ends that they reach. I don't want to be accused of anything either."

"Ahh, as Sydney Smith said, 'It is the greatest of all mistakes to do nothing because you can only do little – do what you can'. I think you won't regret this, BJ."

"Sometimes, I regret all the schemes we get into and more," BJ muttered, cursing the day he came to Korea and left his family behind. "So, Hawk, what's our first assignment tonight? What can we do first other than pry information out of Potter and see what we missed?"

"What else?" Hawkeye grinned, his mood changing once more to hope. "We hit the first source: the record keeper in the main office. Come, Watson, and let us bother Radar in the morning and check out a few files. I think we'll find out something if we searched the one file that needs to be looked it."

"Winifred Curtis'?" BJ asked.

"Exactly," Hawkeye replied, grinning with triumph as he took a sip of his drink.


	6. The File Gives a Small Clue

Radar was backed into a corner with the first morning light, surrounded by the two captains before their CO could enter the office with questions and feel outrage about them bothering his clerk (indeed, they knew Colonel Potter wasn't going to be until about noon, when he had Post-Op duty). Without his glasses on and his teddy bear in one arm (fighting as if it was a weapon, as always, for its owner), Radar seemed annoyed, and even a little angered, to be bothered at that time in the morning. He even thought it unusual that the two Swampmen were up at the ungodly hours of dawn, especially with the summer heat upon them soon and without their coffee and gin.

"Come on, Radar, this is important," Hawkeye moaned pathetically as Radar fought him and BJ off with his teddy bear and yelled at them about waking him up and records being kept secret again. "Margaret's life and career hang in the balance and she won't be here anymore to boss people around. She could be…what's the word, BJ?"

"Dishonorably discharged?" BJ suggested with a shoulder shrug.

"Is that what they call it these days?" Hawkeye asked him.

"Can you Sirs be serious for once?" Radar inquired rudely, pushing the captains back finally with his teddy bear and some random files he grabbed from the filing cabinet next to him.

"We _are_ serious, Radar," BJ replied desperately. "All we want to do is look through some records –"

"Which you can't do because it's personal and there's nothing in there anyways and –"

"But we _need_ to, Radar. Please. For us. For _Margaret_." Hawkeye sighed, looking like he was about to give up, like he wanted to cry, BJ thought for a second before realizing that his friend was playacting for the sake of getting his way. "But if you need insisting that we can't look through the records, then we might as well head back to the Swamp. Come on, Beej. Let's go back to our bunks before Radar's radar sense turns back on again and we have to get back to work again."

"If we must be on our merry way elsewhere, then so be it then, Hawk. Let's go."

BJ took Hawkeye's arm when it was offered to him and started to walk towards the double doors. The two continued as such, walking outside into the heat and to the Mess Tent for a cup of what the Army called coffee, before Radar caught up with them (running frantically from behind with nothing but his Army shorts on) and signaled to them that he would talk to them alone in a corner.

Activity was already rising in the camp as the sun started to rise, so Radar was cautious when he spoke to the pair just outside of the Mess Tent (already omitting obnoxious fumes and making some people gag). "If you Sirs think you can be quiet, I think you can look at the old Nurse Curtis file…Sirs…but the Colonel Sir cannot know about it. He's gonna be real mad when he sees you two read it. That file is personal and confidential…I think he said, and he said there wasn't really nothing in there to see anyway."

BJ and Hawkeye looked at each other in surprise (amused with Radar being almost naked as well), their morning assault on Radar a complete success, and unhooked their arms.

"Thank you, Radar," Hawkeye said, his blue eyes shining. "You won't regret it."

"I already am sorry about Major Houlihan," Radar started as he and the two captains turned around and headed back to the office.

"So are we, Radar," BJ replied quietly as he opened the door for Hawkeye and Radar. "So are we."

~00~

An hour later, the two captains were still looking over the file of Winifred Curtis and finding nothing of interest. Radar, standing behind them with his glasses and clothes on finally, said nothing, but stood guard at the door with Klinger (who was just as curious as Hawkeye and BJ and wanted to know what was going on). With a female nurse's outfit on and his guard duty gun at the door (the shock of the previous day's find gone for a while), Klinger waited patiently and sometimes looked over the captains' shoulders, but without much success in seeing what he wanted.

"Come on, Captains. Can you let a gal see what you're reading?" Klinger complained, his skirt riding up his hairy legs as he leaned back against the door to wait again.

"Not now, Klinger," BJ answered, swatting his hand up at an imaginary object. "Can't you see that we're busy?"

"Yeah, busy finding _nothing_," Hawkeye added, obviously annoyed as he flipped blacked-out pages absentmindedly, BJ trying to read through them too.

"See? I told you that you won't find anything," Radar commented.

"Shh! Can't you see a detective at work?" Hawkeye scanned the pages once more as his partner gave up, letting BJ back away so that he could think more clearly. "Ok, so we find out that Winifred Curtis has a brother and two sisters. She's from Las Vegas, Nevada…"

"What goes in there should stay in there," BJ commented.

"For sure, for sure, my dear Watson," Hawkeye replied. "Now, she comes from our lovely Vegas, born, bred and breathing in there from July 19, 1920 onward. Two of her siblings survive into adulthood and one sister died at age two. We can only guess that she went to nursing school someplace, but the name is blacked out on both sides, so we can't see anything. She joined the Army in 1938 and she volunteered, it says here, and was in Asia during the last war and went to Japan afterward. She never married. She doesn't have children. And, it also says that her parents are dead and her siblings are alive with children. And that last fact was updated over a decade ago. Any questions so far?"

"Yeah," Klinger said, raising his hand, as if mocking a student in a classroom. "How come she's dead and Major Houlihan is the key suspect here?"

"We'll get there, we'll get there, my dear Klinger," Hawkeye reassured him. "Now, she was at Tokyo General from the start of the war onward and was transferred here on May 30, 1952, just a short time ago. Which means…?"

"She's been around the block a time or two," BJ suggested.

"Or three," Klinger added.

"Or four," Radar chimed in, wanting to be included in on everything they did.

"Right," Hawkeye answered, smiling, trying to decipher the code in the file still (he found it difficult with a lot of lines crossed and blacked out). "So, she's in Tokyo General for a few years and gets the boot and comes here. Why though? Why was she transferred here? Why was she kicked out of Japan and sent to Korea and to _us_?"

"Drunk and disorderly with Sergeant Church?" Klinger suggested lewdly.

"It _could_ be, but not yet, as we've seen." Hawkeye scanned the next page as he organized them and put them back together again. "Ah ha! It says here, my fellow men, that our Nurse Curtis was also working with General MacArthur's aide after the last war, when she was sent to Japan after being on Guam for a while. Everything else has been blacked out." He finally closed the file with finality, some hush in his action, as if the silence in the file could never be enough. "So, do you know what this means?"

"We need to start someplace else?" Klinger asked.

"We need to find out why she was with the general's aide at the time?" Radar shook his head (and his teddy bear in his arms) as he spoke.

"We need to head to Tokyo General and find some answers before something else happens to this camp?" BJ suggested afterward.

"All of you are correct," Hawkeye answered as he sat back, relaxed finally, in his chair. "And I think we all have won the million dollar question today."

"Yes, but the question is, will Colonel Potter let two doctors out of Korea to look for answers to some murder case that could be solved by other people?" BJ asked, skeptical, thinking they were at a dead end once more. "He won't just let us go became of Margaret. Whatever made him silent and not pursue the case further is pretty serious."

"Well, there is some medical conference that the colonel didn't really tell anyone about…" Radar trailed off with a piece of information not yet given to anybody else but Colonel Potter, who had not bothered to tell anyone else yet.

"Why weren't we told of this one, Radar?" BJ shook his own head in amazement, quite astonished that they finally had their excuse ready. "I thought that we were supposed to be informed of all conferences in Tokyo."

"Well, I had to save it for _something_," Radar replied, smiling.

"And we just got our something." Hawkeye stood up. "Come on, Beej. We've got to get our passes."


	7. Scout's Honor

"Hold your horses, gentlemen. I can't _afford_ to let you two doctors leave this unit just this second. We have wounded coming any day now and we need all the hands we can have on deck."

Colonel Potter shuffled paperwork as the two captains, petitioning desperately in his office, put forth their request to go to Tokyo. He didn't seem deterred that the two were, as always, begging to have their way. However, he anticipated it happening and was steeling himself for it, only to find that he possibly couldn't deny it, even if he was practically ordered to by forces higher up than he was to have all hands stay put. He knew that it had to happen, in order to help Margaret be cleared of the charges.

"But Colonel, this could be a life and death situation, quite literally," Hawkeye explained quite deviously, trying to cover up their intentions without knowing what Potter already knew. "Now, Colonel, these conferences could help us –"

"Hawkeye, I know what you're up to." Colonel Potter looked up at the doctors, finally admitting to everything. "No, you can't go to Tokyo General looking for clues to assist Margaret. It'll be a hinder to the Army investigation. Besides, I've already been told that nobody is allowed to leave this unit without a good reason until Margaret does."

"And you can't use that excuse to get us out of here?" BJ asked, scratching his moustache.

"Yeah, Colonel," Hawkeye added. "This conference in Tokyo is actually something we need to go to. We need to go to Tokyo General, amongst other places perhaps, to help Margaret and to find something to _prove_ that she's innocent. We _need_ her, Colonel. We can't afford to lose her."

BJ was about to say, "_You_ can't afford to lose her", but kept his mouth shut, knowing better than to speak of things that he highly suspected about, but nobody spoke about. He knew about the awkward mutual attraction between Margaret and Hawkeye and kept his honest opinions about them (as well as himself when something seemed to happen) low and quiet.

"Hawkeye," Colonel Potter started to reason, "Headquarters Seoul put these orders over my head. I prefer not to run around them to get whatever my personnel want. Now, do you have any other questions for me?"

"You're afraid, aren't you?" Hawkeye demanded immediately. "There's something about this nurse's murder investigation that is bothering you. There's a conspiracy somewhere and you're afraid to tell us something because you were told not to. You don't want us involved. Is that it? You don't want us help exonerate Margaret and have her back at our sides, working as always?"

"Hawkeye –"

"Am I the only one who actually _cares_, Colonel? Or am I the only one who isn't afraid of the Army and what they'll do to me? Hell, they put me in Korea. I've been here since the very beginning, drafted in and homesick for Crabapple Cove. How much worse can my life be, since this is worst that we can dream of? Now, can you imagine Margaret suffering then, for the rest of her life, knowing that she was innocent and a little something called _Korea_ ruined her?"

"Pierce! That's enough!"

"Colonel –"

"No, Hawkeye. That is enough. There is _nothing_ we can do for Margaret now."

"Then, what harm would two doctors do in Tokyo, going to a medical conference?" BJ asked, the calmest and most reasonable of the three doctors in the office. "After all, Colonel, we're only trying to gather the latest and greatest information to help these soldiers survive the war so Uncle Sam can send them back in."

"Well, considering the last time I let Pierce here loose in Tokyo…" Colonel Potter mused, thinking of the excuse again.

"Scout's honor, Colonel" Hawkeye said, his right hand up straight. "I promise that I will behave from now on. I won't send MacArthur any more notes, asking him to divorce his wife so that she could marry me."

"You better, Pierce, because I'm only letting you go. Hunnicutt, you can stay here. Two doctors out in Tokyo might draw suspicion. One with an enlisted escort will not maybe."

"Why did you change your mind?" BJ then asked.

"Sit, the both of you. I have Radar at the door, so we'll be safe from people who want to listen in. And I know that he can stall anybody at that door perfectly fine without me."

Colonel Potter motioned that the two captains sit down before his desk. They both obeyed instantly (Radar bumping his head against the doorway to see and hear the action through a crack), behaving so that they could receive the information they've craved to have for a couple of days now. It would be _anything_ to help Margaret.

_And maybe, we'll fill in some holes,_ BJ thought.

"Now, boys, here is what I've learned about Winifred Curtis," Colonel Potter started quietly. "First off, she isn't a nurse. She was barely taught any medical skills by somebody, but it's enough to pass muster in any Army hospital. Her crudeness, however inappropriate, seems to mask that inability of hers though."

"I knew it!" BJ exclaimed. "I knew that it was the maid!"

"Not yet, Hunnicutt," Colonel Potter replied. "Now, she did join the Army when she just turned eighteen. Well, she was drafted, more like it, she didn't volunteer. Curtis was stationed, after her basic training, near her home in Las Vegas. Afterward, she has been known to work in several Army hospitals throughout the last war and this one, Tokyo General being the last before us. However, between 1941 and 1950, before this here war started, other than being a 'nurse', she was a wartime and postwar aide to MacArthur. She wasn't just in Guam after the war."

"We knew some of those parts," Hawkeye admitted without guilt. "Get to the juicy parts, oh great colonel of ours."

"I'm getting there, Hawkeye, I'm getting there. Now, as you probably know, she has a few siblings. One of her sisters works in Tokyo General and the other one died most tragically. She probably has more information than I do, since she works also as a double agent being on our side, but…"

"But what?" BJ inquired.

"Winifred Curtis, as you probably figured out by now, is a spy." Colonel Potter smiled. "There, now, there's your dirty little secret, all the information that you've wanted to know. It could be a reason _why_ she was murdered so horribly. However, why Margaret was blamed is another question we need to answer."

"Why all the secrecy then, Colonel?" BJ raised an eyebrow, inquisitive. "Why do we find nothing but black lines through her records?"

"Because nobody wants anybody to find out how she really is," Hawkeye concluded. "The Army is either using her and found out something about her and murdered her or they thought that she was one of us and killed her off anyway. And in any case, we have one Mary, Queen of Scots: beautiful, insecure and rude. And off with her head…almost! Chop, chop, chop! A head is hanging by its puppet strings."

"Again, why would Margaret be blamed, though?" BJ asked again.

"She could be the scapegoat," Colonel Potter suggested. "She was the last person to see and talk to Winifred Curtis alive. The last time anybody saw her around the camp, she was heading to the minefields. Any other physical evidence was planted, I believe."

"We knew that already though," Hawkeye moaned.

"Who would _want_ to ruin Margaret and her career though?" BJ said out loud, still thinking to himself and not paying attention.

"Why don't you stop asking everybody that and think it out!" Hawkeye pulled at his hair, frustrated.

"Pierce," Colonel Potter warned.

"No, the questions are legitimate, but as you can see, to find out the motives of a spy are few and far between," Hawkeye argued. "Who truly hired her? Who did she really work for over the years, if she was just MacArthur's personal aide? Why go from medical unit to medical unit and then get murdered, only to have your boss be blamed for something she didn't do? It doesn't make sense."

"Maybe someone should ask Sergeant Church?" BJ suggested.

"Great idea, Einstein…if we knew where he was!"

"Colonel, don't tell me the man went missing, too." BJ looked to Colonel Potter from Hawkeye (who heard rumors around the camp just minutes before and said nothing to his best friend), but found nothing except confusion in the CO's eyes.

"Son," the colonel began, "Sergeant Church went missing this morning and the camp had started talking about it before I could command anything. His footlocker is still in his tent, right next to the Klinger Collection where is always has been, but there is no Sergeant Church. Nobody has seen him anywhere. The last he was seen was at the Motor Pool, but that was two nights ago."

"Is there a search party going out for him?"

"No, Hunnicutt, there is not. However, the MP's are searching the area instead of us. Every checkpoint has been informed of it."

"There is anything else we know about Sergeant Church?" Hawkeye asked.

"Nothing out of the ordinary, Pierce," the colonel answered. "His records are as black as a summer thunderstorm cloud. As far as we know, the man has no family and no friends. The woman he loved is dead, murdered by somebody. We don't know what moves the man. How can we decide where he could have gone?"

Hawkeye looked to BJ and vice versa. Then the former said, "Colonel, then let me go as soon as possible. Klinger can come with me."

"I second that," BJ added.

"Send a hairy Lebanese orderly to Tokyo with an alcoholic doctor?" Colonel Potter asked. "I don't think so, doctors. However, if this helps, then I'm willing to put my John Hancock on that pass."

Hawkeye stood up. "Thank you, Colonel. You won't regret this."

"I hope not," the colonel replied, calling for Radar to bring the pass, the order being repeated back to him. "Let's just hope that this time, you won't be sending any of those silly marriage proposals."


	8. Interrogation and Upcoming Arrests

Major Floyd, locked away with his two men in Margaret's tent, smiled. For several hours now (from dawn, when they woke the major up until that moment, after midnight), he had been vigorously questioning Major Houlihan. So far, he hadn't gotten his confession yet, but he was slowly breaking away at her resolve. He knew that he was coming closer to getting the truth of the matter.

_She's a tough cookie, that Major Houlihan. Tougher than nails really. But she'll never get through me. I'll outwit this one and get the blood off of my hands soon enough._

Rubbing his forehead, beads of sweat visibly running down his face, Major Floyd sighed. "And I ask you again, Major Houlihan, where were you the night that Nurse Winifred Curtis was murdered?"

"I was in my tent sleeping, Major Floyd, as I've told you many times before," Margaret replied, also frustrated and growing weary from the lack of sleep and the blatant harassment. "Nobody saw me, but I'm pretty sure that our occasionally-skirted Corporal Klinger didn't see me leave my tent during the night to run off to some deserted corner of the camp's vicinity to murder a nurse nobody liked."

"Yes, but _you_ were the last person to talk to her when she was alive. Do you remember the exact conversation? What did you two talk about?"

These were new questions from Major Floyd and it took Margaret off-guard, surprising her, even because of how detailed she would have to be in order to save herself. Floyd, in the meantime, seemed pleased with himself for asking such meticulous questions and listened for the answers, only to see hesitation on Margaret's face. She was hiding something, he thought, and used it to his advantage. She _had_ to have been there when Nurse Curtis was murdered!

"So, you threatened her?" he then asked, sending the major's hand to her mouth.

"No! No, it wasn't like that. Not at all. I wanted to see what her problem was and why she was a nuisance in camp, just like Colonel Potter suggested that I do when I asked for his advice. I was brushed off, like everyone else. She asked for a transfer and I agreed with it. And then, she kept telling me that I should wish her dead, but I didn't. Now, is that what you call a threat, Major? What exactly _are_ you talking about?"

"Then, tell me more about the night you talked with her, Major Houlihan, because it sounds like you were talking to her less about her antics in the camp and more about how she was annoying you. You know the consequences will be dire if you don't tell us the truth."

_She's pushing back, but I know I've got her._ Floyd smiled. _Sarcastic little bitch, she is._

"Well, isn't this what it's supposed to be about? Telling the truth?" Margaret then asked him, a little confused. "I'm innocent, Major. You've got to believe me! I didn't murder anyone with anything. I reported my weapon missing over a week ago and I don't own a knife. How could I have killed this woman?"

"Then, why is there a chunk of your hair missing? Or why are your fingerprints all over the scene?" Major Floyd was growing impatient by the moment, the nice game long since over and his cards now being shown. "I can _see_ that your hair was pulled out by Nurse Curtis in the struggle for her life. _Your _gun was the murder weapon, the one that shot Nurse Curtis. A knife with your little finger's prints was on the item that we have yet to find. Face it, Major Houlihan. _You_ murdered Nurse Curtis!"

Margaret put her hand to her hair, realizing at that moment that it _did_ feel like someone pulled some of her hair out, wondering how and when it happened and why she could have missed that in her nightly brushings. A few strands even remained loose, twisting around her fingers and falling to the floor as she felt around her head for more damage.

_It must have been done while I was sleeping. There's no other way!_

"I did no such thing, Major!" Margaret finally yelled back as she put her hand down, tired of being accused of something she did not do. "My last conversation with Nurse Winifred Curtis the night she was murdered concerned her behavior around the camp, like I said. I have several witnesses to attest to the fact! She and Sergeant Church were causing this camp so much chaos that I didn't know what to do. I talked with Colonel Potter, like I've told you already."

Suddenly, a light went off in Margaret's head. There were witnesses. "Yes! You can talk with Colonel Potter. He can tell you about it. I talked with him about it with Nurse Kellye many times, but when we were in the Mess Tent, we talked to him about Nurse Curtis. Colonel Potter suggested –"

"Colonel Potter and Nurse Kellye did no such thing, Major. I don't believe you. Both stated that they didn't speak with you about Nurse Curtis and I've asked them several times if they have, to make sure that they weren't lying. I'm an investigator, Major, so I know all the corners and have covered every inch of territory. Now, what did you talk to her about?"

"I told you, Major –"

"And yet, you know that it's a _lie_, Major Houlihan. Tell me the truth. Did you or did you not murder Nurse Curtis?"

The questions bouncing back and forth confused Margaret more, her head into her hands before she knew it. Shaking it, she muttered words incomprehensible to her interrogators and it irritated them. Major Floyd's second-in-command, Corporal Wright, even put his hand on the major's shoulder and shook it, trying to get her to face his commander. However, this failed.

"Major Houlihan, Major Floyd asked you a question," Corporal Wright then yelled in her ear. "Answer him now!"

Margaret looked up, tears and makeup running down her face. Her was composure gone, defeat set into her face. "Which question? I don't kn-know what you're talking about!"

"Just answer the question, Major Houlihan!" Floyd yelled.

"Which one? I don't know which one you want me to answer!"

Major Floyd sighed, not knowing what to do next, so he looked to his two men. The latter man, Sergeant Wellington, walked from his position at the door and whispered something quickly in his CO's ear. This caused the major to smile from ear to ear, knowing that the sergeant was right. There was another tactic to use on Major Houlihan.

"Ok, let's start this once more." Major Floyd rubbed his forehead again, rethinking his strategy as Wellington went back to his position at the door. "Major Houlihan, you said that you were sleeping the night Nurse Curtis was murdered and nobody saw you or could verify that. Now, Nurse Curtis was seen walking by the minefields before that and was never seen again. Nobody saw her with anybody."

"Yes, and…?" Margaret asked, still confused.

"Did you order the murder to be committed instead of doing it yourself then, having evidence planted to leave your mark? Do you have accomplices? Or did you have help?"

"Answer now, Major, and we can grant you a lesser sentence," Wright added calmly, Wellington grinning broadly at his place, glad he thought of the idea.

_We have her now_, Wellington thought.

"I-I-I don't kn-kn-know," Margaret stuttered, not thinking.

"So, you're saying that you had a hand in the murder, but you can't remember if you did it with or without help or if you had someone else do it?" Floyd asked. "Sergeant Church, who was closest to Nurse Curtis, also disappeared and was reported as such early this morning. You're saying that you or somebody else murdered Nurse Curtis and also helped Sergeant Church go missing?"

"It must have been Major Houlihan who killed Nurse Curtis," Wellington reminded Floyd. "Who would want to leave a mark on their victims? Somebody else must've gotten Sergeant Church. But we'll find him soon, Sir."

"I –" Margaret started, her head trying to comprehend the latest tidbit of news.

"Give us a name, Major Houlihan, and you'll be set free," Wright then interrupted. "Give us the name of your accomplice and you'll be free to go. We'll go after them."

It was a promise and one that Margaret knew wasn't going to be kept. It would seal her fate and the other person she mentioned in this witch-hunt. However, the men weren't going to leave her alone, so she said what she wanted them to hear. With the blinding lights in her face for hours, the pressure of admitting to murdering a nurse and three men twisting every word she said, Margaret named the only person who could have helped her do anything, a true friend who stood by her since she arrived in Korea. She named someone who supposedly helped her murder Nurse Winifred Curtis.

And all she wanted was for them to go away and to stop harassing her about the issue, but it was no use. Immediately after hearing the name of the person who they thought helped her in the murder of Nurse Curtis and the disappearance of Sergeant Church, Floyd motioned Wellington to come out with him. Wright was left to guard Margaret, finally handcuffing her to the chair and then informing her that Seoul will want her charged in a formal court martial soon.

As the light went out in her tent and Wright took his position at the corner of it, Margaret thought of the predicament she placed herself in. Sighing, she just hoped that the man would forgive her for lying about him and herself.

~00~

Colonel Potter was writing a report about a patient in Post-Op when Major Floyd and one of his men came in, causing so much noise walking in that it woke up patients trying to rest. This made the colonel annoyed, to say the least, but he kept his cool and looked up the major when he stopped right next to his desk. He had to play the diplomat, but by the way Floyd looked at him, Colonel Potter wasn't sure that he was going to remain neutral for much long.

"Can I help you, Major?" Colonel Potter asked kindly, adjusting his glasses.

"I'm here to inform you of the upcoming arrest of Captain Benjamin Franklin Pierce, Colonel," Floyd said gravely. "He's now being charged with helping Major Houlihan with the murder of Nurse Curtis and for the disappearance of Sergeant Church."

"Captain Pierce, a murderer? Come now, Major, you can't be serious." Colonel Potter folded his hands on the desk. "Pierce is a Regular Army prankster, not some outlaw at the OK Corral."

"Major Houlihan confessed to the crime and named Pierce as her companion," Floyd replied. "We don't know who the mastermind is behind the plan or what the motive was, but we're getting down to the bottom of the barrel. There are more conspirators out there. I can assure you that."

Colonel Potter said nothing, thinking about what to tell Floyd. His brain was full of ideas, but none of them workable. However, there had to be a way to delay everything. He knew that.

"Furthermore," Floyd continued, "if we have Captain Pierce in custody, we can get down to the conclusion of this case and finish it off in Seoul with the both of them, or more, doing a lifetime of hard labor in Leavenworth Prison or facing a death sentence for a brutal murder. Now, where can I find this person you called a 'Regular Army prankster'?"

Wanting to laugh and keeping a straight face, Colonel Potter looked up at the major. "I'm afraid that you won't find him here, Major."

"What do you mean that I can't find him here, Colonel? I'm here to arrest a murderer!"

"Major, Pierce is usually at Rosie's Bar down the road, the Officers' Club in the camp or in his quarters, the Swamp, drinking and fraternizing with the whole camp on his free time. However, a medical conference came up in Tokyo and I cut him loose because it was essential to the medical unit. It was important and I couldn't afford to send anyone else. Pierce is our Chief Surgeon, so it was logical for me to send him along."

"What do you mean, you 'cut him loose'? Colonel, this is a serious investigation into the murder of one of our nurses. You just let a prisoner escape. You can't be serious about what you did!"

Colonel Potter stood up. "Oh, I am, Major. Now, if you hold your horses, I can put myself on the horn to Tokyo and find out where exactly where Captain Pierce is so that you can have him as your prisoner. Or you can wait until he returns and question him then. Either way, without him suspecting a thing, he won't have the opportunity to run away from you."

"No, no, Colonel," Floyd finally blurted, stunned. "My men and I will look for him. Now, do you know exactly where Pierce might be?"

"If you find a Lebanese man in women's clothes, holding an umbrella and a rifle, you're on the right track," Colonel Potter only replied, grinning as he did.


	9. Being Chased

Hawkeye knew that he had two short days to search for clues and little, precious time to make the phone calls back home to Korea to pass on information to the others concerned about Margaret. That was all Colonel Potter could give him, considering that the conferences were winding down in that amount of time and his excuses to keep Hawkeye out of camp were running slim fast.

The captain also had the feeling that he was going to be followed soon enough. If somebody was after Margaret and blaming her for some murder, then whoever was responsible would try and follow him and the others as well. They were pretty close, truth be told, and anybody who was anybody would realize that. Even her friends might be blamed.

_Anybody close to her was going to be blamed. Anybody who's following this case is going to be trailed everywhere footsteps are taken._

As the weak dawn sunshine crept on the duo as soon as they landed in Japan, Hawkeye wasted no time in getting to work on the case. Despite having Klinger complain about waking up and not going to the hotel to sleep (the night flight to Tokyo being the only one they could take without appearing to be escaping the tyranny running the camp), the captain was ready and willing to try to find something, _anything_, that will clear the charges from Margaret's records. He couldn't spend the time resting and neither could Klinger. They couldn't afford it.

"So, where do we start?" Klinger sleepily asked as soon as they left the airport, watching as Hawkeye tried to hail a driver with little luck. "I hope we'll find some paradise someplace soon." He was resigned, knowing that a bed was far away, even if his last comment was wishful thinking.

"Try and find a ride to Tokyo General," Hawkeye replied, getting a person to stop its wheeled vehicle being pulled by a bicycle. "We've got somebody to talk to."

"Oy, you know this is my first trip to Tokyo, right?" Klinger asked, making his wistful intentions clearer. "I'm tired, Captain. I understand your dedication, but my skirt's riding up my legs. My umbrella is frayed at the edges. My panty hose are running. Can't we take a break someplace? This lady's pretty tired and she needs to change soon. Where's our hotel?"

Motioning that Klinger join him in the one person manned vehicle as he climbed in, Hawkeye wrapped his arm around Klinger's shoulders, taking his umbrella in his hands. "Klinger, Klinger, Klinger…your dedication to rest inspires me. But remember, we have work before play. A cool, cozy hotel room in Tokyo shall await us when we finish our business today, at sunset."

"Are you sure, Sir?"

Hawkeye laughed as the hairy man groaned. "Have I ever been wrong, Klinger?"

As the wind licked his hair as Hawkeye told their driver to head for Tokyo General, Klinger turned around to avoid the gusts removing his sunny yellow hat, but swiveled right around, seeing two MP's climb into a vehicle and follow behind them carefully. He knew that the two officers were after them by the way they looked at the duo. One of them had pointed at Hawkeye and pressed extra money in the driver's hands, just to keep up.

"Umm, Captain Pierce –" the Corporal began, becoming nervous as the MP's climbed in and came up to them, closer and closer.

"Klinger, unless you have a blonde nurse under that skirt of yours, then don't bother me. I shall relish this Pearl of the Orient for as much time as I can before we reach our lovely destination." Hawkeye noted his dream nurse on the sidewalk as they turned a corner, whistling at her and seeming, to Klinger, momentarily forgetting that he had another woman to save.

"Sir, we have some –"

"Driver, take a left over there," Hawkeye instructed the man directing their vehicle. The driver himself obeyed the order instantly, giving his passengers a ride through a narrow alleyway and knocking over a stand of tourist's knick-knacks and some US soldiers wanting some souvenirs. The MP's behind them also followed, but ran into the stand's owner, crushing dolls, personnel and umbrellas alike.

Hawkeye laughed again, watching Klinger's eyes widen with amazement.

"And that, my dear Klinger, is how you get rid of trespassers," he said, whistling happily and glancing over his own shoulder as they exited the narrow passageway, knowing that the chaos would last for a few moments. They had little time, but the delay was enough for now.

~00~

Knowing that they barely escaped the MP's with their lives, Hawkeye had to think fast as they approached the large, looming building known as Tokyo General. Tipping their wonderful driver generously as he dropped them off (and bringing their belongings to the hotel), he and Klinger entwined their arms together and they walked to the front entrance together. The captain was even kind enough to take the corporal's lacy sunshade, eying the doors' handles and knowing what to do next.

"Ah, my kind and dear Klinger, here we are," Hawkeye commented as he untangled his arm from Klinger's and pulled open the door. Noticing that the indoor doorknobs were the same as the outside, Hawkeye entered the building and closed the door quietly, putting Klinger's bright accessory in-between the handles, as if locking it.

_There! Nobody could enter or exit the building through the front. That should stall those MP's for a while…I hope._

If Klinger noticed that he had lost his bright sunshader or objected to it being used in such a manner, he made no mention. His eyes were more focused on the nurse at the front desk, a redhead in a typical white nurses' outfit (short skirt, panty hose and white shoes, hair short), a Red Cross logo on her breast pocket. She herself was also attached to a clipboard of paperwork, reading through it carefully and checking off random lines.

Hawkeye followed Klinger's glance, walking quicker as his heart started pounding his chest. Surrounded by the business of running an efficient hospital, he maneuvered around patients in wheelchairs, orderlies, doctors and other nurses, intent on talking with that particular nurse. Maybe she had more information on the whereabouts of Winifred Curtis' next of kin, who also worked at Tokyo General? Maybe she could point them in a direction other than the front door, which was about to be surrounded by MP's?

Hawkeye wrinkled his forehead in frustration. _I am hoping that she can aide us. Surely a fellow nurse will have sympathy for another innocent nurse? Nurses stick together, last I knew. Unless they were jealous…and then, we had a good night._

"Excuse me, Nurse," Hawkeye began as he and Klinger reached her wooden desk. "Perhaps you can come help a poor doctor like me in –"

"_If_ I can help you, _Doctor_, but, I'm sure that you'll receive more at the conference down the road," she replied, not looking up from her clipboard.

"Ma'am, we're here on some urgent business," Klinger protested.

"And I'm here, seriously working on supplies and what our wounded need. Now, if you two would kindly leave, then order will be preserved at this hospital and life will go on."

Hawkeye didn't like the pert replies from the nurse. "Now, listen, Nurse…?"

"Curtis," the nurse answered, finally seeing Hawkeye and Klinger as she looked away from her lists. "My name is Gale Curtis. Captain, if you need some information in getting to those conferences, I'm sure that an orderly can assist you in getting there. Now, can you leave?"

Klinger only had to look behind him to see the MP's from earlier. They both were trying to open the door, shaking it violently because pulling it was impossible by force. One of them was trying to break open the glass, his hand succeeding and then searching for the obstacles blocking him and his companion from reaching their goal.

Hawkeye followed Klinger and became frantic, finally down to begging. "Ma'am, please help us. We're trying to find out more about Nurse Winifred Curtis, who was stationed with us at the 4077th M*A*S*H. We're hoping that, since your last name seems to be the same as hers, that you'd…you know…rescue us from those MP's that keep on following us. They're been on our butts since we arrived here in Tokyo. And we think you know more than you're showing."

"If that's an offer for dinner tonight, then I pass," Nurse Curtis said. "But since those two have been harassing our patients about my sister for the past few days, then I'll help." She put down her clipboard. "Quite honestly, I'm not sorry that she's gone, but to know that patients who she interacted with in Korea are being bothered by MP's eats at my core. To see a doctor and some cross-dressing orderly be chased by them merits some aide. Now, come behind this desk. There's a door under my feet. Follow it down and hook a right at the first intersection. Go to the end and go up the ladder. You should be one of the exam rooms. It's always empty, so you'll be safe. I'm the only one with a key, if you're that worried."

"I can't thank you enough," Hawkeye replied gratefully (despite his hatred of tightly closed space), gulping as he followed the nurse's orders as she stepped aside quickly, Klinger behind him.

"Neither can I," Klinger added, holding the door in the floor open as Hawkeye jumped in.

"I'll meet you in a few minutes," Nurse Curtis whispered behind them, the door closing next to her and the front revealing the MP's. "And I am hoping that you find what you're looking for."


	10. Who's Telling the Truth Though?

It only took a few minutes (and Klinger dragging Hawkeye the whole way because of his severe claustrophobia) for the duo to reach their destination. Just barely able to balance himself and Hawkeye in his arms, Klinger struggled to get up the ladder, dropping his gun he carried in his dress down it to save his arms and them from being shot. A sigh of relief escaped his lips, knowing that a discharged gun could lead the MP's to where they are.

_One trouble down, another to go. And if Captain Pierce could only stop his panting and dragging, then my job would be easier. When Chief Potter said that I had to guard him, he meant it!_

"I'm ok, Klinger, I'm ok," Hawkeye rasped out as soon as they reached the empty exam room from the secret door, wooden boxes and tables greeting them.

Shoving Hawkeye up and over his head with the remainder of his strength, Klinger himself started breathing easily. Shutting and locking the trap door behind him as Hawkeye stood up, he replied, "If you say so, Captain. But if this gets me my Section Eight, then I'll gladly do it again."

Hawkeye almost shuddered visibly. "I don't think so. I don't think we both can fit into that closet space again."

"You probably will if no nurse will help you slip into a spare room," a voice behind them said, both of them knowing that it was Gale Curtis. "There are MP's out there still, but at least they're not looking for you anymore. They are, however, posted at the front door, so you're going to have to go underground again if there is no other choice."

Hawkeye and Klinger both groaned. The former was not looking forward to the tunnels and the latter was not keen on dragging Hawkeye around, quite literally.

"But that's not what you came here for, was it?" Nurse Curtis asked. "You came here about my sister, Winnie."

"Winnie?" Klinger snickered, thinking of AA Milne.

"It was a childhood nickname," Nurse Curtis explained, knowing what the snicker was about. "She was the youngest of the three of us that survived childhood. Both Saul and I are about a decade older than her and our sister, Amy, died when Winnie was four. Now, she used to be known by that name before, you know…before the books about the bear became famous. But when she grew older and nastier, she started using 'Winifred' more often."

"Older and nastier? You mean, she actually played nice?" Hawkeye asked.

"Yes," Nurse Curtis replied. "Once upon a time, Winnie was actually a little girl who liked to play with flowers, acorns and leaves. I was nine when she was born, Saul was eleven and Amy was not even thought of yet. After that tragic loss when Winnie was four, we did everything with her to make her feel special, minus the clubs that Las Vegas has. She just seemed like a ray of sunshine then, always a ball of energy, until our father left us. She was about six then and it devastated her greatly. Winnie was attached to Dad unlike the rest of us and she couldn't bear him leaving her alone. The two were most alike and had similar interests.

"Finally, when Winnie finally started figuring things out for herself, she then blamed it on Mom all the time, saying that she didn't do enough to make him stay. Even though Mom explained that they didn't love each other anymore and that the marriage didn't work out, she then turned into a dark cloud, very depressed that she didn't have Dad around anymore. Mom did everything to cheer her up…we all did still…but there was no use. When Mom sued for custody during their divorce later that year, she wasn't granted it. All three of us were sent to Dad."

"I take it, this went over well?" Klinger scratched the back of his dress, now covered in sweat.

Nurse Curtis sat on an empty crate as the two continued to stand, wringing her hands. "Yes, for a while. Winnie was ecstatic. She seemed to be happy with the arrangement. However, I don't think it did her a bit of good. Saul and I knew that Dad was a hardened criminal and that he did time for the Army for going AWOL during the First World War. He was also suspected, along with his superior officer, of working for the Germans during the same war, but nothing was proven besides a piece of paper saying, 'H21 coming for you'. Nobody knew what 'H21' meant. It was a cryptic code almost, one that would let Dad escape because he pointed the finger elsewhere else, along with another officer."

"What happened to the superior officer?" Hawkeye eyed Nurse Curtis suspiciously, almost not believing much of what she was saying. Winifred Curtis being a harmless little girl seemed unreal. Her father being an actual criminal, accused of working with the Germans, was equally unbelievable. However, even if it was true, it seemed to explain the nastiness behind the spy/nurse.

"He was tried and put in front of a firing squad," Nurse Curtis said. "His name was Ploid, I think. Colonel Leonard Ploid."

Alarm bells went off in Hawkeye's head, but he ignored it.

"Anyhow, back to Winnie. Now, while she loved and admired Dad from afar, he saw potential in her. While Saul and I were almost legal adults and incapable of not having an empty slate, he saw that Winnie had eagerness to work and that he could mold her. He knew that he could make her into something that he wanted and he did. Before she was ten years old, Winnie was already accompanying Dad on trips to the bank, standing guard as he robbed them. By the time she was twelve, she witnessed him rape and murder a woman. At fifteen, she had been in too many relationships that Saul and I could count and she even had an abortion, to boot. The next year, she dropped out of school. For two years, we lost track of her until one day, she sent me and Saul a letter from Texas. She was in basic training for the Army, she said, and seemed too bored with it. It was about three years before we went into the war in Europe, remember."

"After all of that, you'd think you'd never hear from her again," Klinger mentioned.

"Right." Nurse Curtis shook her head. "Saul thought that the Army would clean her up. He said that she might get her act together and actually get her off the streets."

"Hey, hey –" Klinger started.

"Shh!" Hawkeye elbowed Klinger in the ribs, then directed another question at the sad-eyed nurse. "I take it she was just as nasty as snow?"

"Yes," was the reply. "She was also aiming to go to Germany. She wrote something in her letter about seeing what all the fuss was about, since people were coming to America and telling stories about the brutality of those not 'Aryan'. I didn't like the idea, but Saul thought that seeing the world would give her more insight into everything."

"Your brother seems to give her a lot of faith," Hawkeye observed.

"Too much. He died before he found out what Winnie was up to. And she became a fright after my divorce and custody battle and Saul's untimely funeral. First, she would dangle my children in front of my face, saying that she would help me gain custody of them back by sleeping with my ex husband, who was just as horrible. Then, when I didn't pay any attention to her, she went after the ones who barely could ignore her: Helen, Saul's wife. All but terrorizing her and children to tears at the funeral, calling their home constantly and saying that it's Saul in her best male voice…she was nasty.

"About that time, in 1939, she went to Germany, just like she wanted to doing God knows what. About the time Pearl Harbor happened two years later, though, she was recalled to the United States and was stationed out in Asia as a nurse and then as a personal aide to General MacArthur. Now, I don't know how she became a nurse, but I'm pretty sure she watched and learned."

"I can tell you that from personal experience," Hawkeye recalled. "It was like she memorized everything, my dear Mrs. Hudson. She also didn't know basic doctoring skills, which every nurse, much like you, should know. She always relied on others to do her work and walked out before the OR session was over most of the time. The bedpans weren't even cleaned out well."

Nurse Curtis beamed with recognition, realizing that Hawkeye was giving her a hidden compliment, albeit generalized. She also knew that he was telling her nothing new. Her sister did the same thing at Tokyo General under her supervision.

"However," Hawkeye continued, "what remains a mystery is _how_ she became an aide to General MacArthur in Japan after that war. How did she receive such a cozy position?"

"I don't know," Nurse Curtis admitted. "I did get a letter from her, saying that she was in Japan and then Guam. Bragging, she added that she had a very young German wrapped around her fingers and that she was going to Argentina when her assignment was over. She was planning on going AWOL like Dad did and live a life with a Nazi. Well, she indicated that the German in question was a Nazi."

"Are you sure?" Klinger asked, finally sitting on another empty crate.

"Yes. No doubt about it. And I know that she was still with him when this war started. She had no time to run to Argentina. When she was here at Tokyo General, before I petitioned to have her kicked out, he was around a lot, before she went after that Church guy in Korea. The guy came in while she was supposed to be cleaning bedpans. Snuck in for sex in the linen closet when they thought that I wasn't looking. It irritated me. I had to let her go. I knew that she was no nurse and even told everyone that, even my superiors."

"Did they listen?" Hawkeye leaned against a wall, tapping his fingers against it in impatience.

"No, but they did suggest that Winnie be transferred to a war zone. Somebody up there was watching her though. I guess that they have been since she joined the Army, since everything she did was seemed a little ridiculous." She paused. "I mean, being MacArthur's aide was out there, even for me. I doubted it for a while, but when I saw the newspaper clippings with her in there, I knew that she was telling the truth. Escaping Germany before the war without publically being accused of being a Nazi was amazing. Even being murdered without cause I denied. I didn't know what to think when I heard the news that she was dead. I didn't want to believe it, but it was true. Winnie was dead."

Wiping tears from her eyes, Nurse Curtis continued. "I may be upset that she's dead, but I'm not sorry she's gone still. I don't regret saying it. She caused a lot of trouble and I'm sure there's more to come. I know she must have left something behind."

"But you must think that the main suspect is not guilty?" Hawkeye asked, anxious to hear the answer, noting that the victim's sister even thought that she left behind something. Somebody must know that Margaret was innocent!

"I don't know," Nurse Curtis answered honestly, looking Hawkeye in the eyes. "After lying for so many years and then actively telling the truth…somebody has to be pulling my leg here. The Army hasn't been exactly telling me everything either. So, I don't know who to believe."

"Would you believe me if I said your sister was a spy?" Hawkeye then asked.

After a minute of thought, her answer was, "Somehow, no. Winnie was always butting in other people's business. But who was she spying for and who was paying her? Why did she have to be murdered so brutally for it, even if it was true?"

"We don't know yet," Klinger replied carefully.

"Well, I hope you find out soon." Nurse Curtis got up. "I'll talk to the both of you later. I need to be at my shift. I'll send somebody in to disguise you two so that you don't have to use the tunnels again, as I see it obviously bothers you both. I can't leave you running around them forever."

"So, you're letting us off the hook?" Hawkeye breathed a sigh of relief. "You'll look for someone to get us out of here and not push us underground?"

"You never know who else might be after you, Captain…?"

"Hawkeye." The captain extended a hand, happy to receive one back in a shake. "Hawkeye Pierce. And this is Corporal Klinger."

"Why are you in dresses?" Nurse Curtis had to ask, cocking an eyebrow up.

"You don't want to know," Klinger said. "But I do want to know if I could get my umbrella back."

"I take it you left your gun down the tunnels, Corporal?"

"Yes, Ma'am." Klinger smiled. "And I know. No guns in hospitals."


	11. Claus Schultz

Klinger, posing as a wounded soldier with a head wound, was wheeled from the empty room in a stretcher with Hawkeye behind him as his doctor. Two orderlies and a nurse followed them as a cover, helping them to navigate the maze to get them into a room where they could talk quietly. However, when they reached the empty patient room and gently loaded Klinger onto the bed and hooked up a simple IV, their company dispersed and the two were left alone, closing the door behind them.

"According to all of the information we've received, somebody seems to be hiring Winifred Curtis for something dangerous," Klinger started from his bed (hating the IV in his arm), aware of the silence between him and Hawkeye for the first few minutes they were alone.

"Huh? No, you're right, Klinger." Hawkeye rubbed his tired, red eyes as he sat in the chair opposite of Klinger, helping him sit up. "I think sunset might be a little late for our bedtime. I might head back to the hotel with you after we're cleared to leave here."

"But Sherlock, I thought that we had to find something more about Nurse Curtis?" Klinger inquired, aware that Hawkeye the detective was slowly getting tired.

"We are, but that plane ride and being chased by MP's is killing me. I need a dry martini."

"I don't think we'll get one anywhere near here, Captain. The bars are down the street the other way, where the geishas are dancing. And we don't have time to be heading there."

"And how would a man dressing as a woman know that?" A light German accent filled their now opened doorway, frightening both Hawkeye and Klinger as they turned and saw a man with flowers in his hands, coming in and closing the door behind him. A click of the doorknob and they knew that it was locked as well.

"Who are you?" Hawkeye asked in a demanding tone.

"I should ask you the same thing," the German man replied. "I was told to come to you by Gale. She told me the truth finally after telling me for so many days now to leave the hospital. Then, she told me to go to you and to bring these flowers. I have information you seek apparently."

"Say, weren't you Nurse Curtis' friend there?" Klinger asked him, putting the puzzle pieces together.

The man beamed. "I was Winnie's husband, Claus Schultz."

Klinger and Hawkeye exchanged glances. "Husband?" They both mouthed to each other in shock.

"What? Does the Army not know that we're married yet?" Claus laughed, but there was a weary sadness in his eyes that the two noticed. "We married just after the last war, when we were both here in Tokyo. At the time, I was traveling after finding out that I had lost my family and she was assigned by our superior to be aide for General MacArthur."

"What superior?" Hawkeye's eyes narrowed in suspicion as Claus came over and dropped the flowers in a vase and came over to sit in the chair on Klinger's other side. "Who's in charge of you?"

"Well, it was General Hannibal," Claus replied. "He's in charge of intelligence in this sector. Now, he's just as German as I am, but has hidden it better. Ever since immigrating to the United States about fifty years ago, he has changed his name and hidden his roots. He's also a secret Nazi, just as I pretended to be for Winifred."

"Winifred Curtis was a Nazi," Hawkeye stated plainly, as if to verify what her sister suspected all along.

"Yes, she was." Claus wiped a stray tear from his face. "I met her when she first came to Nazi Germany, as it was then. She went and joined the Nazi Party secretly, but also had assignments there, as General Hannibal wanted her to infiltrate the highest forms of government in Germany and serve them as an agent. Sadly though, her two years there weren't enough to achieve that. So, General Hannibal gave her yet another assignment, one that would help weakened the US war effort."

The suspense was almost killing Klinger (the soreness in his arm showing on his face), who asked, "What was it? Being with General MacArthur?"

"Yes and no," Claus revealed. "Winifred was supposed to assassinate General MacArthur, who was the key in the Pacific victories."

Klinger whistled, but Hawkeye was still distrustful of this Claus Schultz. "How do we know that this is all true?" he asked Claus, not knowing whether or not he should trust Margaret's fate into this man's hands. "Why are you telling us all of this freely, like we owe you something?"

"You know that she was a spy, right?" Claus asked him.

Hawkeye had no choice but to nod.

"And you know that she was a horrid person, capable of doing anything?"

"We knew that," Klinger inputted sarcastically.

"However, what proof do you have that this is all true?" Hawkeye inquired. "How do we know that you're another agent, like Winifred Curtis, and that you're here to help us?"

"Because I know Major Margaret Houlihan was purposely set up and I don't like seeing an innocent woman put into a prison," Claus revealed gravely. "It was all part of a plan, set up by the Ploud son, who is also working with General Hannibal. It was set up to bring about her downfall. I have all the paperwork to prove it. It can be sent to you later."

Hawkeye relaxed his tense muscles, seeing some sort of proof and more evidence coming this way. However, it did not spare his mind any curiosity. "And what's your part in Winifred's death?" he asked Claus, unaware that he had no part in it at all. "Or what did you and her do together, before she left for Korea?"

Claus looked at Hawkeye with more tears in his blue eyes. "I loved that woman, Sir. She was a part of me for over ten years and for her to be dead is unbelievable."

Hawkeye finally extended his hand to introduce himself, finally feeling some pity for the man who had lost the woman that he had loved. "I'm Hawkeye Pierce, and this is my trusty stead, Corporal Klinger."

Claus shook Hawkeye's hand, but was not allowing him to believe that he had a part in his wife's death. "I don't understand why she's dead and the blame put on Margaret Houlihan so quickly like that, Hawkeye Pierce. But I do know that the Ploid son wanted to discredit her for the longest time. Since her father and my wife's father tried putting the elder Ploid on trial for treason years ago, he's been bent on destroying the family."

"Could it be that General Hannibal had Winifred Curtis killed himself and put the blame on Major Houlihan?" Klinger suggested.

"It is possible, but not likely," Claus reasoned rationally. "Winifred was one of his brightest students, a rising agent for those who wanted Nazi Germany to rise again. Although General Hannibal was with the Ploid son, I'm sure that his hands were dipped in minimal blood."

"Where do you fit into this?" Hawkeye then asked him, aware that the man was crying over a woman everyone hated. "How did you two end up being miserable?"

"I was working for the United States CIA to find out who was an agent and who wasn't," Claus revealed to him. "I found out about Winifred in 1939, after my family had been captured by the Nazis, and knew right then and there that she was one of them. She was a Nazi who wanted to bring Germany's greatness to the world and spread it. However, I loved her. It was my only fault. I knew that she was crude and unusual. I knew that she would bring me ruin. But I could not help it. I thought that I could change her."

"And you married her?" Klinger still could not believe the concept.

"She accepted my proposal after the war ended seven years ago," Claus replied. "She and I were separated for most of our marriage because we both traveled, but her being here made my life easier. I was assigned here by the CIA to watch her, but having dates with her was much more interesting." He paused and then snickered before continuing. "Anyhow, Winifred persuaded me to join her group years before we married and I accepted. This was how I watched her most of the time, being the double agent for the CIA and for those Nazis. I learned the secrets of the organization and how they would proceed to rule the world with the Nazi philosophy behind them."

"Kinda puts the Communist Reds to shame," Hawkeye said, laughing. "Now, we need to know General Hannibal's business with Margaret's family."

Claus was about to answer, but there was a knock on the door and somebody trying to kick it in. "Open up!"

Claus motioned that Hawkeye go to the window and hide outside of it against the brick hospital walls while Klinger lay back down and hide his hairy body (getting his face wrapped in bandages to help hide it) and pretend to be a wounded soldier. There seemed to be no time to argue. Lives were at stakes already and both Klinger and Hawkeye knew it.

When the two obeyed within seconds and all was as it should be, Claus called out, "Who is there?"

"I'm acting on orders of Major Floyd, head of the investigation on the murder of Nurse Winifred Curtis," said the intruder, who was obviously an MP.

_And he might be the one who's been following us,_ Klinger thought. _Are we going to be arrested too?_

"And what might that be?" Claus played stupid, in order to buy more time. "I am just visiting my brother here, who has been wounded in Korea."

"We need to investigate, Sir," was the reply. "We have reports of fugitives here and we need to find them. They've been traced to this very room."

Hawkeye, hearing this exchanged outside of the window (and holding onto the ledge for dear life), knew two irrefutable facts. The MP's were closing in on them and that they were already cornered.


	12. Near Capture

One of the MP's pushed open the door when Claus sat up and went to unlock it. The two at the door saw that all was what was said it was, but their informer had to have been right. However, the man in the bed was suspicious to them both, covered from head to toe in sheets and blankets. Even his face was covered in bandages, as if to hide something and not just burns gained from the war. That, in and out of itself, with the reports of the wanted men in question running around Tokyo General, was enough to make him want to investigate further.

However, Claus wasn't about to go to one side without a fight, following the MP's when they both walked to Klinger. "Sir, this is a mistake. My brother here, Corporal Hans Schultz, has been wounded. His face is burned horribly. You can't just barge in here and demand to see people that don't exist here."

Sergeant Wellington, who had helped Major Floyd with his questioning of Major Houlihan, smiled. "Sir, there have been reports of fugitives in this room. I have to investigate the lead, no matter how ridiculous you think it is. I can't believe your word that this wounded man is your brother and not either Captain Pierce or Corporal Klinger."

Sergeant Wellington smiled again. _We can't have these Germans knowing about us again, can we?_

Hawkeye, just outside the window and standing on a thin ledge to the left of it, knew that they were done for and doomed. When that MP saw that Klinger wasn't a wounded soldier and escaping again, he'd be detained. Then, all Claus had to do was reveal him outside, holding onto the thin ledges just outside of the window for his life, and then their quest to clear Margaret of all the murder charges would have been in for vain. They would be captured and imprisoned.

However, Hawkeye heard that Claus wasn't giving up so easily still, which gave him some hope. "Sir, umm – Sergeant, I see, why don't you get Nurse Gale Curtis? She knows this man and can tell you that he was wounded in Korea last week, when a bomb exploded near him. Not only does he have a serious head wound, but his face was also burned. He was at M*A*S*H 8063rd before coming here. Can't you see that?"

The other MP looked to his superior and then to Claus, waiting for his orders. When his superior, the sergeant, nodded, telling him to fetch Nurse Curtis, he ran off. However, Claus had to face his adversary, who was debating whether or not Klinger was truly a wounded man and that Claus was truly his brother. Already, the blue eyes behind the sergeant were telling Claus that he doubted his word, but that if he was calling upon one of the head nurses, then he must be telling the truth somehow.

_Even then, that bitch of a head nurse might be lying too. Who knows?_ Wellington stared at Claus intently, trying to find the truth, but nothing behind the German's own eyes. He was stoic.

Hawkeye, with sore fingers and losing his grip on and off, could not hear any conversation until Winifred's sister came into the room with the MP's companion. Nurse Curtis, when she started speaking, sounded muffled, but as Hawkeye strained his ears to listen, he heard her clearly.

"What is the meaning of this, Sergeant Wellington?" Nurse Curtis demanded quite imperiously. "Corporal Wright here was asked to get me to clear up this mess."

"Ma'am, one of your nurses said that there were fugitives in here," Sergeant Wellington began.

"Which one? Which one of my nurses has been disturbing this hospital?" Nurse Curtis sounded angry and her professionalism was at its height. "Whatever she has been feeding you is false. No men have been seen here at Tokyo General, fitting the description behind the names of Captain Pierce and Corporal Klinger."

"Nurse Curtis, with all due respect to your deceased sister –" Corporal Wright tried soothing the nurse, but the sister of the Winifred Curtis, who had seen and heard the most horrible things already, was not having any of the false sympathy.

"If you want to invoke the name of my dead sister, then do so in another way!" Nurse Curtis' temper increased. "If you want to find her murderers, find them someplace else. Corporal Schultz here has been recovering from his burns and head wound. If you disturb his brother's visiting hours further and insist that he's one of your wanted men, I will talk with your superiors."

"Major Floyd will be told that you're hindering a murder investigation, and the one of your own sister," Sergeant Wellington threatened. "He'll be reporting to _your_ superior."

"And I'm telling you that you're disturbing my patients," Nurse Gale replied, calmer but colder now. "So, leave now or I'll physically throw you out of this building myself. Leave!"

Hawkeye tried to listen to more of the conversation, but Nurse Curtis had thrown the two MP's out and heard the door slam behind them before any of them said anything else, leaving him relieved. However, he almost lost his grip and fell when Claus stuck his head out the window, throwing a hand out in his direction. Hawkeye took it quickly, but slipped as he turned to climb back into the window. Claus, luckily, had a good grip on his hand.

"Come on, Hawkeye," he said, pulling as much as strength behind him as he could. "I got you."

Despite being blinded by bandages, Klinger jumped out of his bed and came to help Claus, seeing through the clear gauze. Squeezing in and taking Hawkeye's other hand below, he helped Claus pull the chief surgeon up while Nurse Curtis pulled the bandages off of Klinger's face.

"Get offa me," Klinger muttered through the bandages as they were yanked off roughly.

"We have no time," Nurse Curtis said as Hawkeye popped through the window and landed on the floor. While Claus and Klinger helped him to his feet, she added, "One of my nurses that helped you here obviously was listening to the MP's and have given them information. At any moment now, they'll be back and you three know that you have to be gone before then."

"But where?" Klinger asked. Then, he looked to Hawkeye. "Are you ok, Sir?"

"As ok as the bird above your head flying south," Hawkeye replied sarcastically. "Nurse Curtis, where are we going to go when we're surrounded by nurses who like to gossip and be vicious to the first man who tried to help another woman?"

"I guess Major Houlihan has a reputation here already," Nurse Curtis replied quickly. "Not too many people have a love of her, since she is usually too professional and Regular Army for most women who like to flirt with the wounded men. She cuts no other nurse any slack. She was also so strict the last time that she was here that most of the nurses here purposely disobeyed to start an argument with her."

"So, when the nurses hear of her being accused of murdering Gale Curtis' sister here, they won't look too kindly on the people who are trying to help her," Claus added sadly. "Even if my wife was considered to be lewd, the person who was accused that was not loved in the first place has no friend amongst her species."

"And we are a nasty species." Nurse Curtis sighed. "Some of the nurses know about the tunnels underneath the first floor, but not all of them do. Now, if I can get Corporal Klinger to be a wounded man again and Captain Pierce here to be disguised as another doctor, to that supply room and down the ladder, then we'd be fine and you three would be safe. You two can escape to your hotel with Claus here and settle down for the night. I'll meet with you later tonight, if I can hold these MP's off."

"I don't like that idea," Hawkeye immediately stated. "There has to be a different way out of here other than handcuffs."

"I'm afraid, Sir, that that's the only way we can get out safely," Klinger offered. "I'm not looking forward to soiling this dress anymore than necessary, but –"

"We still don't have time, you three." Nurse Curtis crossed her arms in frustration, repeating her warnings. "The plans stay. Those two goons will be back here any moment now to arrest you two." She pointed to Hawkeye and Klinger. "And then, they'll arrest you and accuse you of murder." She then pointed to Claus. "And then, they'll get you and that's only because you might be linked to your wife's death. Already, you've been accused of being a Nazi. Whether it's true or not, I don't care, but people like you aren't welcome here. You all need to get out of here."

Klinger picked up the abandoned pieces of bandage off of the floor. "Does that mean that I need to wear this stuff again?" he asked, sounding pitiful. "It almost feels like wax."

"As if you need all of that hair," Claus commented. "Let's get you wrapped up again, Klinger, and get out of here."

"Hey, hey, we forgot something here," Hawkeye said. "I can disguise myself easily in my profession as a doctor, but my face is known around these parts. Is there any way that I can get out of this town with that black mask?"

"Hmmm…" Nurse Curtis rubbed her chin, thinking about the problem. "We might have to take that risk. We could cover you up like Klinger here, but that's a tall order and I need some more bandages. Claus here can be fetched for that, but he might also run into those MP's again."

Hawkeye looked out the window, also thinking. He then walked over to it, thinking as he saw a few fire escapes and a gutter line running down to his right and below. Then, he had an idea.

_That might be our only way out. We don't have much of a choice here. We'll be caught anywhere we go._

"Hawkeye, you can't be serious?" Klinger wiped his forehead, full of beady sweat drops, seeing where Hawkeye's eyes were going. "You know that we all can't balance that well on the window ledges. My high heels alone can't hold onto the stone walls well."

"I don't think we can all fit down that gutter line," Hawkeye observed. "However, with the good amount of sheets in here, we can all climb down and escape to the hotel. It looks like we're in the back of the hospital."

"More towards one side," Nurse Curtis revealed as she, too, walked over to the window, seeing what Hawkeye was talking about. Then, pointing to the left, she added, "If you do down that way, there's an alleyway. It leads to the other side of the street, but at least you have a better chance to get away from the MP's than going through the tunnel system. You are right."

"Not to mention, it'll save me from cave-ins," Hawkeye muttered inaudibly, walking away from the window and going towards the bed, eying the sheets. "Now, who else can tie knots?"


	13. Manipulation and Intrigue

Later that night, safe from harm and just on the outskirts of Tokyo in the crummy hotel the luggage was taken to (the escape plan working to their advantage), Hawkeye, Claus and Klinger sat together in one room, pouring over the files that Claus had sent over already. Old (and sometimes odd) pages upon pages on the organization of Nazi Germany and its descendents today flashed before their eyes, all of them familiar to Claus and waking up the memories of the other two. Even Winifred's biographical and career information passed through them, the biggest interest of them all. Even Hawkeye was amazed at the career of a woman whose life had ended in the most unlikely of places: Korea.

"Who do you think did this to her?" Klinger asked out loud, still confused as to why someone would murder an agent and why she acted the way she did. "We know that Major Houlihan was framed because this guy –"

"General Hannibal," Claus interrupted.

"Yes," Klinger said, annoyed. "Well, she was murdered most likely under the orders of General Hannibal, like we thought."

"It's not likely." Claus was convinced of his conviction. "Like I said, the Ploid son pushed him into the plan. I believe that he provided resources, but nothing more."

"It seems so to us, if he doesn't like Margaret's family that much." Hawkeye seemed certain that this General Hannibal was responsible for holding Margaret incarcerated, but with the evidence mounting towards Winifred's Nazi career, he could have easily said that one of the other agents did the same. However, he could not find solid evidence for that as well.

Either way, it was one hundred percent certain (more so, in Hawkeye's case), that Margaret was innocent and that she was framed by this organization.

"General Hannibal is too smart for his own good," Claus informed them. "Remember that he commands many people, all of them for the return of the Nazis, but to have time to murder one agent and frame another nurse for it seems a little out of character for him. In trying to rule the world, he doesn't have time for one little nurse framing, but to use someone else for their own plan in order to achieve something he wants…that sounds more like him."

"How would you figure?" Hawkeye asked him, his blue eyes angrily staring Claus down.

"Well," Claus began, "General Hannibal himself would not risk one of his top agents to frame a woman he does not like, especially to ruin a family he does not like. He has better methods in doing that. Secondly, he loved Winifred before we married and still had feelings for her after we did, even going as far as giving her away at our wedding. He wouldn't murder the woman he loved. Lastly, and this is very important, he has our child, so why would he deprive a boy of his mother?"

"Winifred was a mother?" Klinger shook his head, not believing what he was hearing. "First she was married and now she was a mother. What is this world coming to?"

"Other than Lebanese men wearing dresses?" Hawkeye suggested.

"Well, he was adapted," Claus quickly amended, smiling at the light mood. "Winifred named him Saul, after her dead brother. But he was a child nobody wanted. Nobody in the organization knew where he came from, but that he was left on one of the agent's doorways and she didn't want the baby and passed him along to every agent she knew. No person in their right mind would want a child. So, Winifred and I adapted him. He has Winifred's last name, to keep things quiet and unsuspicious, but he's mine to keep still."

"Why, don't you seem like a proud father," Hawkeye said sarcastically, thinking of why this conversation went from Margaret to Saul Curtis, Winifred's adapted son.

"My son is seven years old, thereabouts, and is the smartest child in his class," Claus related very proudly. "General Hannibal keeps him in a boarding school in the US, paying for the tuition and board. This allowed us to freely complete the mission that he wants. After all, what parents want a child in the way of creating a Nazi world?"

"You, apparently," Hawkeye replied bitterly.

"I am no agent, but one who is spying on them. I do not want Hitler's Germany back." Claus was defensive, knowing that Hawkeye was the same about Margaret. "I understand that you like this woman who has been framed, but we need to clear her name first. And I know that you all hate my Winifred, but she was mine. While she was nasty and lewd, I still loved her. And I miss her. She had a gruesome end, Gale told me. Nobody deserved that."

"Yeah, it kinda was," Klinger replied softly, remembering the body that he, Igor and Rizzo found only a couple of days ago.

"Now, back to the files," Hawkeye announced as he read through Winifred's personal agent file, trying to change to topic and get back to working. "It says here that Winifred was sent out to assassinate our old blood and guts, General MacArthur, but it's obvious that she never did."

"That's right." Claus was skeptical of the doctor's sincerity in getting back to work, but accepted it as a man fighting for a friend (perhaps lover) to be freed.

"Why didn't she?" Hawkeye closed the file on Winifred Curtis and placed it back with the package full of other agents' files.

"It was the timing," Claus admitted. "MacArthur was secured at all times and while he was in Japan, Winifred tried at all time to shot or stab him. As his aide, though, she also was close to him at all times and watched. Apparently, she wasn't close enough."

Klinger whistled. "But why was she sent over a nurse?"

"It was a cover, Klinger, don't you get it?" Hawkeye stood up, excited. "Being a nurse was the cover story that Winifred Curtis needed. As a Nazi, she would need secrecy and all the paperwork she needed to show that she was one. Working as Mac's aide, she received nothing in that profession. She had to have been watched all the time."

"That I didn't think about," Claus said, amazed. "Her profession might also have made them very suspicious. A nurse, without even the Army knowing that she went to school for it, was enough to raise some flags. We can know why she might not have been able to assassinate General MacArthur."

"Now, who employed you at the CIA?" Hawkeye asked Claus, curious as to who they were dealing with now that they knew who Claus was.

"Sam Flagg," Claus replied, but not without cringing.

"No wonder you haven't returned back to him." Klinger also cringed. "That man is a master of disguise himself. He blows worse than the wind."

"I have reported back to him," Claus informed Klinger. "And he accepted my role as husband to Winifred, even if he didn't believe that I loved her. He thought that I was still undercover and that one of these days, I'd catch her doing something and rat her out, as you Americans say. However, why he didn't get back up when I said that she was in a bed of conspiracy, I cannot tell you. It might have something to do with the fact that he wanted to take the organization down himself, but didn't have all the manpower he needed." Claus laughed bitterly. "He also wanted more information on them, I'd say. He wanted a whole history before putting them on trial before Mom and apple pie."

"And because Winifred was an American citizen and used the US Army to cover up her misdeeds, then he could easily have had her shot," Klinger added.

"Right." Claus seemed proud of their deductions. "However, there's still the case of Margaret Houlihan, who is accused my murdering my precious wife." The husband of Winifred Curtis offered the other men no sign of grief, but his eyes started showing it to them, like he was also sad at the destruction of an Army officer, innocent of all charges.

Hawkeye knew right then and there that Claus Schultz was not just grieving for Winifred Curtis, but also for Margaret Houlihan.

"Well, we know that she had two sisters and a brother and one of her sisters died when she was four," Klinger offered.

"Her father took her on a life of crime, she left the family and joined the Army and went to Germany, where she joined this nut organization," Hawkeye added.

"She married me, we had our son adapted and our life together seemed separate, but complete almost." Claus again sounded saddened by the loss of years of marital bliss, but gathered himself together and tried to appear like he was rational.

"She was an aide to Big Mac, on an assassination errand –" Klinger began.

"– and she had no chance in hell, so as a registered US Army nurse, was assigned at Tokyo General, where she was given the boot and assigned to us," Hawkeye finished.

"We had to deal with the consequences of it and then she was murdered not long afterward."

"While in the meantime, our lovely damsel in distress, Margaret Houlihan, was blamed and arrested by Major Floyd."

"And it appeared like she was going to confess something, I'd guess."

"And that, my dear Klinger, has the MP's coming after us."

"Who is this Major Floyd?" Claus asked, interrupting Hawkeye and Klinger stating the facts back and forth. "I've never heard of him before."

"Oh, he's the guy in charge of this crummy investigation," Klinger said casually. "He's kind of a sucker, if you know what I mean."

"He wants something and he won't stop until he gets it," Hawkeye added when Claus showed them both a confused look on his face.

"Ahh." Claus still appeared confused. "Well, if the MP's are after you, then it would be logical to say that Major Houlihan confessed falsely and now, you both are in trouble."

"Don't we know it already," Klinger groaned, stating the obvious.

"So, we can't go back to camp unless we want to get arrested," Hawkeye softly said, crushed by the realization that he would either be arrested for murder or desertion. Either option was not comforting and would not allow him to go home to Crabapple Cove after the war ended.

"This Major Floyd character seemed a little shady to me though," Claus announced. "I'm going to call a friend of mine and have him checked out. It just could be that he's nothing, but it also could be that he's a bigger danger than we thought. Already, he has his men out there, searching for you. What more is this man capable of?"

Inanely, Klinger picked up the package of files, flipping through them until he stopped on a familiar sight. "Hey, it's Sergeant Church!"

"What are you talking about?" Hawkeye demanded, tired from the day's events already.

Klinger was insistent on the identification. "No, look, Captain, this is Sergeant Church. When you do enough KP with the man, you can recognize his face anywhere."

Hawkeye looked at the file when Klinger handed it to him, seeing the same face (there were some different facial features behind it), but a different name. "Well, he wasn't Sergeant Aaron Church then, but he was Manfred Schneider, the man also chasing the same Nazi dreams as Winifred Curtis was. That is, my dear Klinger, _if_ this is really Sergeant Church."

"Let me see that." Claus gently took the file from Hawkeye, eying it wearyingly. "Yes, this is Manfred Schneider. I didn't know that he might have changed his name and joined the US Army, but it is possible. General Hannibal wanted as many as he could inside the US military so that it could be infiltrated."

"And manipulated?" Hawkeye asked, aware that a bigger conspiracy was about to be uncovered and that he was stuck right in the middle of it.

"Most likely so," Claus replied gravely, studying the file of Manfred Schneider and sighing.


	14. Information Exchange

It was about eight in the evening when Radar heard the phone ringing. Teddy bear in hand, he walked over to the phone, ignoring the fact that his glasses were on crookedly as he sleepily woke up from his nap. "M*A*S*H four-oh-seven-seven. This is Corporal O'Reilly speaking."

"Radar, it's me, Hawkeye," the captain whispered on the other end of the phone. "We've got some information for you and we have a few minutes to talk about it. We do know that Margaret was framed, but not by who just yet. Get Colonel Potter."

"What?!" Radar yelled, excited to hear from Hawkeye, but not cautious enough to keep his own happiness to himself. "Hold on, let me get the colonel, like you asked for. You hold on for a moment and don't hang up. I'll be right here, Sir!"

Radar knew that Colonel Potter was in Post-Op and had managed to get him from his station immediately when he whispered to him who was on the phone. Both silently left the wounded and the nurses and gathered around the phone, like a pair of conspirators in an illegal act.

Colonel Potter was ecstatic, albeit stoic outwardly, that Hawkeye had called, however worried he was about the search for him and his upcoming arrest. He was worried about Klinger as well, who had also just been named as one of many people in the plot to kill Nurse Curtis, revealed already to be a spy. While Kellye, Rizzo and even BJ had been named in this investigation as part of the murder and have not been arrested, Major Floyd had yet to leave the camp in peace and find the real murderer (or, better yet, why Sergeant Church had disappeared). More people, he knew, were yet to be named as murderers and he, as commander of the outfit, knew that he had not seen the end of this catastrophe yet.

"Pierce, is that really you?" Colonel Potter whispered, aware that Floyd was patrolling the compound outside with his men while others brutally interrogated.

"Who else would it be but your friendly, neighborhood surgeon?" Hawkeye asked as a reply in an almost gay voice. "Listen, Colonel, I know that we don't have a lot of time, but do you think that we need to –"

"Pierce, I know. Go AWOL and we'll cover for you later," Colonel Potter interrupted softly, knowing what Hawkeye was about to ask and knowing the tough choices that he probably had to face. "Now, son, tell us what you've found out so far."

"Well, we know that Margaret was definitely framed, but we don't know who did the dirty deed yet," Hawkeye began with some uncertainty in his voice. "This is a much larger plot than we thought. We found out that Winifred Curtis was a Nazi spy and not one of us and was part of an organization bent on continuing the last war."

"Gee wilikers," Radar commented next to Colonel Potter.

"Shh," Colonel Potter commanded to Radar. Then: "Pierce, have you been out drinking and playing with the geishas or have you actually been out there _helping_ Margaret?!"

"No, Sir, it's true," Colonel Potter heard Klinger, as if from a distance (and wondering how the hell he could hear him from Korea). "We've talked with her sister and then her husband and –"

"_Husband_?!" Colonel Potter bellowed, forgetting about Major Floyd and his men outside. "Do you realize that her file does not mention that she was _married_?!"

"Yes, Sir," Klinger replied as it sounded like he took the phone from Hawkeye. "However, we know that it's all crazy and all, but it's true. Nurse Curtis has a sister here at Tokyo General. She told us some things about her and the family and then had us hidden, because we've been chased around Tokyo by Major Floyd's men and –"

"It's a long story, Colonel." Hawkeye sighed, frustrated, winning the wrestling match to talk to Colonel Potter as he interrupted Klinger. "She is a spy, but she's also part of the plan to bring Nazi Germany back to power and help their mission."

"I thought the last war was over, Pierce, not continuing into Korea." Colonel Potter then copied Hawkeye's sigh of frustration. "This sounds too much like a spy novel to me, boys. Come on. Tell me the truth."

Suddenly, Colonel Potter heard a man with a German accent take over the phone. "Sir…Colonel, I am Claus Schultz, Winifred Curtis' husband. Now, what they've been telling you is the truth. My wife was part of an organization to bring the Nazi Party back to power. I am a CIA agent sent to mole into their ranks and bring them to trial, since most of them have been operating under the nose of the US Army."

Colonel Potter sighed again, this time in disbelief. _This is already becoming ridiculous, more so than what Floyd's been up to. I thought that I sent these boys on a mission, not some vacation._

"What makes you think that I'm gonna believe you?" Potter asked suspiciously.

Hawkeye took the phone back. "Colonel, do you know Nurse Gale Curtis?"

The colonel did a double take. "_Another_ Nurse Curtis?"

"She's the Head Nurse at Tokyo General, Colonel. She's Winifred Curtis' sister. She was the one who suggested that we talk with Claus Schultz."

Colonel Potter still was not convinced. "Hawkeye, this…Claus Schultz says that he's a spy for the CIA and it's obvious to me that he came right off the boat from Germany. God knows where he's been and what he's been up to. For all we know, he could be another one of those Nazi spies you're telling me about!"

Hawkeye found it prudent not to tell the colonel that Claus was really working under Flagg just yet. He knew that it might damage the credibility Claus had already.

"Furthermore," Colonel Potter continued in an official tone, "I only ask that you be careful, Pierce. And tell Klinger to do the same. These are dangerous times and there seems to be a change coming."

"What do you mean, Colonel?" Hawkeye asked, aware of the cautiousness in Potter's voice.

"Pierce, there have been people named…" the colonel began.

"Who?" Hawkeye yelled. "Tell me who!"

"Well, other than you and Klinger, Kellye, Rizzo and BJ have been named as murders in the plot to kill Nurse Curtis," Colonel Potter revealed. "The three have not been arrested yet. You and Klinger are being chased, as you probably have noticed already."

"Don't I know it," Klinger was heard to mutter, most likely hearing Colonel Potter as well.

"Nurse Winifred Curtis has been named a martyr for her cause, just as we suspected was going to happen," Colonel Potter continued. "She's been named as a spy, not a nurse. Major Floyd has been venerating her name to the highest mountain tops, like she were the Ten Commandments."

Radar snickered, but was soon silenced once more.

"So, you're saying that Floyd's been looking at Nurse Curtis' death in a bad light, but making her out to be good?" Hawkeye asked.

"You've got it, Pierce." Colonel Potter was quiet for a moment. "Now, I've better be off of this phone here and getting back to Post-Op. You boys try to sort this out and find the real murderer while we manage the fort here. Understand?"

"Loud and clear, Colonel," Hawkeye replied. "Good night and –"

Before Colonel Potter could hang up, the line had gone dead.

~00~

Claus, Klinger and Hawkeye sat around their hotel room, wondering what to do next. All three sat in the beds afforded to them, unable to convey their deepest fears of being caught.

"Well, we should probably get some sleep," Klinger suggested, yawning and stretching his arms up, his dress going up to his knees. "I'm about due for a nap anyway."

"One of us should keep watch though," Claus added, real fright in his eyes. "If they caught the two of you, I could never forgive myself. We're in this together. We need to find this murderer and bring justice to everyone."

Hawkeye said nothing, but nodded his head in agreement, thinking of what little good it would do to Margaret if he was arrested instead of finding out the truth about the murder. He also knew that he was outnumbered two to one and the tiredness of the day already was gnawing away at him.

"I'll keep the first watch," Claus volunteered immediately. "I can make my phone call about this Major Floyd person and find out more information. In four about hours, at around midnight, I'll wake up you, Klinger, and at four, you wake up Captain Pierce. Everyone has a four-hour shift and keeps watch, in case the men come back. We have an escape route ready, that much I have planned out already. At eight in the morning, we should ready ourselves to leave for the next destination, where we shall find the next clues. It should not take my contacts long to find out information."

"And then what's next?" Klinger asked, yawning again as he wondered where their escape route was and how Claus was figuring this all out.

"Well, we shouldn't be coming back here again," Hawkeye said, aware that Floyd had his eyes and ears from Korea to Tokyo and all the way around. "We check into another hotel for the night and keep it up until this is over."

"There are many across this city," Claus agreed. "I'm sure that my contacts in the few owned here will gladly protect us."

"How many people do you really know?" Klinger scratched his head, now dismissing the notion that his street smarts were little shadier than the CIA, or so he thought.

"Oh, too many to count," Claus replied mysteriously. "I just hope that you both don't end up on the other side. It'll be dire for you otherwise."

~00~

Just before midnight, when Claus knew that both Hawkeye and Klinger were sleeping and he had a few minutes to himself, he picked up the phone once more. Telling the desk clerk downstairs that it was an outside call, he waited patiently, dialing the appropriate numbers when needed and then asking the operator to next dispatch his call to the next number, giving it to her. A few minutes later, after the phone rang a few times in Guam, a voice in a German accent answered cursing, asking who was calling at the hour.

"Wilhelm, is it me," Claus replied as the grumbling grew louder, the contact in Guam obviously perturbed. "I have a favor to ask of you."

"It had better be life or death, Claus, or else I'll have your head on a silver platter," Wilhelm replied unenthusiastically. "I am tired of you waking me up in the middle of the night."

"It might as well be." Claus sighed sadly. "You know that Winifred is dead, yes?"

"I am sorry to hear of it, my friend. I heard also that she was murdered by men higher up than her, somebody out for revenge, and it was all blamed on some Army nurse. You know, anything I can do to help you find the murderer is at your command."

Claus smiled. "This is what I wanted to hear. Listen to me, Wilhelm. This is what I need you to do for me. And I need this before dawn, if possible…"


	15. Suspicion

The next morning, as the three checked out of the hotel, Claus managed to track down two bicycle drivers, one for him and Hawkeye and the other for Klinger and their meager luggage. That way, he knew that if one was caught, the other was not. However, getting the two drivers to meet at the same location, but go in different directions, was almost impossible, as the two drivers argued the practicality of the idea (all in rapid Japanese, which Claus had a very hard time understanding, even if he knew the language well). In the end, though, it was managed with enough American money.

As Klinger helped the other driver pack one carriage in the back, Claus met up with Hawkeye in the other one and sat down next to him in the seat. "We're meeting my contact at a secret location outside of the city, as we planned over the phone earlier this morning," he said to the captain, as if he were in charge of this investigation of their own. "He has information for us about this Major Floyd character."

"And he couldn't give to you over the phone?" Hawkeye asked jokingly, in the back of his mind still trying to understand the spying business.

Claus nodded and smiled. "It's too risky. Major Floyd has already arrested more people than expected, it's been said. With that in mind, he might also have control over the telephone lines and cables. He has men all over the city and more people might be watching us. So, we have to hurry. There's no time to waste this time."

Now, it was Hawkeye's turn to nod. "I see. Well, Jeeves, I think it's time to get the horses ready then."

Their driver behind them packing with Klinger (in a new dress, showing his hairy legs), hearing the exchange, shrugged his shoulders in indifference, but he knew that he had a job to do. While he was hired to keep an eye out for the characters that he was told to, he also had no liking for Major Floyd and his men. Knowing that he also had more money coming his way if he cooperated (and the amount was enough to feed his family for a few years) did not even brighten the deal.

Finishing up his work with the luggage as the two talked and his companion took off with the hairy man dressed as a woman, he walked to his bicycle. Sighing and not looking forward to driving the heavy load, he climbed on and began the ruthless pedaling. Surely, more money will sweeten the pot and he could easily tell Major Floyd and his men that he neither saw nor heard nothing.

~00~

Colonel Potter had been reading more reports from the front lines, just coming in as he sat in his office, brooding. So far, none of them looked good for anyone. The lines were moving once more, towards their direction, and it was possible that his dysfunctional unit might have to go mobile, despite Major Floyd trying to make prisoners out of all of his personnel and Hawkeye and Klinger missing in Tokyo. He had lives to consider, even those who were suspected of murdering others.

Rubbing his wrinkled forehead in frustration, Colonel Potter sighed. He gently put the reports down on his desk and leaned back in his chair, not knowing what to do for the first time since becoming an officer. He didn't see a clear solution to the situation at hand. He couldn't see a way out of a murder investigation that his unit was caught up in. He was not in control of his camp anymore and could not give orders without Major Floyd's okey-dokey. All of the personnel were innocent, no matter what Major Floyd might think (and it was possible that Sergeant Church had his hands dipped in blood, but the colonel was not sure).

_That_ last statement Colonel Potter was sure of.

Worse of all, Colonel Potter had a feeling that his head nurse was locked up in her tent, with no nourishment and company, and it was possible that she could die before she could stand trial. And there was nothing the colonel could do about it, no matter if he was in charge of her or not.

It was no shocker to Colonel Potter, then, that Major Floyd gained immediate access to his office as he mused. When he cleared his throat for attention, the colonel looked up, feigning surprise, but noting the paperwork tucked carefully under his subordinate's left arm.

"What can I do for you now, Major Floyd?" Colonel Potter asked, sounding tired as he removed his glasses, showing his weary blue eyes.

"I have some arrest warrants, Colonel," Floyd answered as he took the paperwork out from under his arm and handed them to Colonel Potter. "As you can see, everything is in order, as everything always will be with me."

Colonel Potter waved a dismissal to him as he read the new arrest warrants, but the latter was determined to say more.

"Major, unless you have something else to say, I'd suggest you scurry away from this office," Colonel Potter suggested in a threatening manner, averting his eyes from the arrest warrants to the officer in front of him.

"Not without issuing a formal statement, with the colonel's permission," Floyd said, only asking because it was military courtesy, but knowing that he had more power than the older man sitting at the desk and one at a higher rank than he. "Of course, Sir, I can put it into writing and inform Seoul."

"Go ahead." Colonel Potter sat up in his chair and folded his hands, ignoring the dreaded words on the pages below his hands. "Seoul doesn't need more paperwork than it already does."

Major Floyd did not expect the response and was taken back, but recovered quickly. "As you know, Colonel, the investigation has been expanded because of certain circumstances. New evidence has come in, as you well know from what you've been shown, and more arrests have been authorized by Seoul."

Colonel Potter nodded mutely.

"Now," Major Floyd continued, "Major Houlihan has named Captain Pierce as an accomplice to the murder of Nurse Winifred Curtis. Colonel, you and I know that the woman was a spy, but there is possibility that the conspiracy behind this murder is part of a bigger organization that we've just discovered, underground from the Army for many years now."

"And what might that be?" Colonel Potter asked, remembering what Hawkeye and Klinger had told him before.

"That has yet to be determined," Major Floyd answered quickly…too quickly for Colonel Potter's standards, and too viciously, at that. "My men and have already found out that Major Houlihan is the ringleader and gave the orders. However, her influence has stretched far and wide. That she-devil –"

"Major," Colonel Potter warned, almost growling.

"Excuse me, Sir. Major Houlihan, I meant to say, has been found to be marking her minions and helping them in any way to come to Korea. She got the Army to recruit men, in guise, to join her here in Korea to kill our men and women and demoralize the Army in its efforts to rid the world of Communism."

Colonel Potter had heard the spew before, but this was going beyond Frank Burns' Communist lectures and his ridiculous beliefs. This man was trying to convince him that Major Houlihan organized it so that she could have the people of the so-called group she created controlled and gaining more under her thumb. In doing so, she took out spies of the US Army and was trying to help the Communists win the war.

_Major Houlihan, a Communist? This is calling a black cat white!_

"Furthermore," Major Floyd concluded finally (to Colonel Potter's relief), "I now have the arrest warrants of Major Winchester, Captain Hunnicutt and Nurse Kellye."

Unfolding his hands, Colonel Potter picked up the papers and handed them back, cleaning his hands of the matter entirely unless he had evidence of his own (suspicions be damned for the moment). "Execute your orders, Major," he only said, not knowing what else to say.

"With pleasure," Major Floyd only said, immediately walking out of the office, disappearing just as quickly as he came in.

~00~

Charles was relaxing in the Swamp as best as he could, especially after a day such as the one he had. Wine glass in one hand and Mozart just out of the other, he positioned the turntable needle as carefully as he could, gently letting it touch down on the invisible, forceful power that helped him forget the hell that was called Korea.

Closing his eyes slowly, Charles could hear the stomping coming towards the Swamp already. He wanted to ignore it, just as he did with the horrible situation he was stuck in, and almost did had not the door next to him slammed opened and shut. He heard the crackle of guns aimed in his direction, but only smiled, sipping the wine that only Boston (and his parents) could give him. It was the best that he could have…naturally.

Opening his eyes to the carnage above him, Charles put his glass down on the table next to him and wrapped his fingers around each other, tangling them into a gentle mess. He smiled grimly, about to drily joke about why these silly boy soldiers were there, but could find none to describe it. He had an idea of what it meant and that he was about to be arrested for a crime he did not commit, but there would always be time to complain later. There was a show to put on and Major Charles Emerson Winchester III was not one to disappoint anyone, especially those who did not know what they were doing, especially when plans were already in place.

As he straightened his back up, Charles only had to stare each man in the eye, each shaking to the record playing in the corner. "Please," Charles only had to say. "_Mozart_."

~00~

Nurse Kellye, assisting BJ in the OR, could only think about taking a break. After the surgery of the lone soldier that came in, she had some free time, all to herself, and was not willing to share it with that horrid Nurse Curtis. All the other nurses had a shift or were busy elsewhere, trying to con Radar into some supplies, like makeup or clothing most likely, so being alone in the tent was a welcome respite.

Shuddering as she remembered Nurse Curtis' death and the rumors surrounding it, Kellye could only think about the fudge she was planning on baking in her tent. Granted, Major Houlihan told them time and again that it wasn't allowed (especially since Radar joined them last time and almost took the tent down with a fire), but since Major Floyd locked her up, things have been more lax with the nurses. There seemed to be no overbearing presence over them, no shadow behind them to tell of more regulations and rules, and it seemed relaxing. Finally, they had someone off of their backs.

However, as Kellye licked her lips (anticipating her fudge, almost tasting it in her mouth), she knew that Major Houlihan was innocent. Despite all of the nurses' feelings for her (and most of them had no kind words for their head nurse), Major Houlihan was not one to deserve a fate as terrible as to be fingered for a murder and have her career in shambles. All of the camp knew that Major Houlihan was good for defense when it was needed (even if she was worried about being raped by the enemy sometimes), but she was not known to murder anyone, especially one nurse who drove everyone insane.

"Clamp," BJ said, as if he was far away. Kellye complied with the request, but was uneasy and it showed.

BJ immediately saw the consternation on Kellye's face and her shaking hands (surely thinking the same things as she), but as he used the clamp carefully as it was handed to him, he also saw something behind the doors of the OR. Kellye followed his glance and gasped audibly. She couldn't even hear the next instrument request, but only stared at the olive green uniforms crowding around the door outside of the OR.

Behind them, the other doors opened, slamming against the walls and tables. Some metal instruments on the tables even fell with them as the room became contaminated.


	16. Doubts and Scheming

Hawkeye looked around their new destination with puzzlement. Claus had brought them to a park, all right, but it was in the middle of nowhere and just outside of Tokyo, where he knew no pretty geishas would roam, even at night. Trees were everywhere, granted, but the woodland had no clear pathways, giving their driver a hard time in navigation (which cost them more than five American dollars and some cursing later). It seemed to be the perfect spot for a cover though.

_Or a crime._ Hawkeye shuddered as they reached their destination and stood there, searching the dark cover for Klinger anxiously.

Claus, in the meantime, followed Hawkeye's gaze. Putting a reassuring hand on the surgeon's shoulder, he said, "He'll be here shortly. I'll sure of it."

Hawkeye still scanned the landscape, ignoring Claus' reassurance, until he found what he was looking for, afraid until he saw Klinger in his bright, sporty outfit. "Ah, there's our movie star now. And look, she's ready for her final scene. Where's her chair in the shade?"

Klinger, in his summer dress and holding onto his hat for dear life, waved at the pair ahead and showed his obvious irritation about the bumpy ride. As Hawkeye and Claus waved his driver over (ignoring his irritation as well), Klinger jumped out early, not too eager to stay in the carriage for much longer. He landed on his feet perfectly, despite being in slippers, and smiled.

"Boy, are we in the middle of nowhere or what?" Klinger asked, rubbing his hands in gleeful anticipation. "And gee, I've seen better alleyways in Toledo than in here. At least there were places to –"

"I think we've all seen better than this," Hawkeye interrupted quickly as Claus helped the second driver unload their meager luggage. Seeing that, the surgeon took the cross-dressing orderly by the elbow and walked a few paces out of earshot. "Ah, Klinger, do you know what's going on?"

"No, Sir, and you know that I didn't do anything." Klinger was serious for once.

"No, no, Klinger, I mean, do you know what Claus is up to?"

"I'm pretty sure I heard something about meeting a friend of his so that we could discuss a few things about Major Floyd. But hey, what do I know, Captain? I'm just your local wartime orderly dressing in dresses and aiming for that Section Eight still."

Hawkeye didn't want to remember all of Klinger's little schemes, escaping and otherwise, and wisely kept his mouth shut. To remind Klinger of his many failures might give him the added determination to go home instead of helping to save Margaret. At the same time, though, it also reminded Hawkeye and Klinger both that Korea was going to be home for a while longer…if not for the rest of their lives, if they were caught AWOL or even accused of murdering Nurse Curtis.

And even the chief surgeon was certain, by the way that people were following them around, that they were already on the arrest waiting list. It was only a matter of time now.

As Claus negotiated with the second driver about payment (not willing to pay more than ten American dollars), Hawkeye continued. "Regardless, Klinger, keep your eyes, ears and nose open. We don't know if this is a trap or what. Claus Schultz has been trustworthy so far, as far as my drunken little eyes can see, but how do we know that he's leading us by the string?"

"Are you saying, Captain, that Claus might be the puppet master of some sort? And we're just the entertainment?"

Hawkeye shook his head, as if to scatter the thought. "I don't know, Klinger. Right now, just do what I say. And that's an order."

Klinger realized how rare it was that Hawkeye gave orders. Unmilitary that Hawkeye always was, Klinger also knew that he was also stern at the moment. Life at the camp was slowly going downhill, from what they understood from Colonel Potter (in-between the lines, Klinger had figured), and it was possible that Hawkeye was trying to keep it all together and solve this mystery before more arrests were made, theirs especially.

Klinger, within moments after nodding to Hawkeye that he understood, saw that Claus was finished unloading their things and had paid the driver handsomely, despite the misgivings about it. The German, seeing the Army personnel in what seemed like a corner conversing, stopped in his tracks as he started to walk towards them. He sensed that something was wrong even with the two displaying poker faces (spy as he was, he realized it), so decided to approach them carefully.

"You two owe me fifteen more dollars of your money," Claus complained jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. "I paid the first one twenty in total and this one wanted thirty originally. I managed to pay half of it."

"When does the subordinate of Colonel Flagg carry so much money?" Hawkeye asked in the same tone, pushing himself away from Klinger and going towards Claus' general direction. "Does he drop money from his infinite, invisible arms?"

"I wish!" Claus laughed, then becoming grave in an instant. "Now, we're meeting my contact here in another hour. He flew in from Guam this morning and has gathered some information about Major Floyd for us."

"That quickly?" Klinger asked, joining the other two.

"Well, he has contacts and those people have more under them to do the work," Claus explained. "It's almost like a spider's web. For example, one person could know two people, those two people know four more each and those four each know eight. It's traceable sometimes, but it's also reliable. We could receive information almost at the touch of our hands and not everybody is getting hurt."

Hawkeye snorted, almost wishing that gaining insight into one person was that easy. However, he didn't realize that things have advanced so much in so few years.

"There is a technology out there that computes things quickly," Claus explained. "It's a machine that's surely about to break through to something. But enough of that for now. In any case, my contact should be here soon."

"What do we do in the meantime?" Hawkeye asked, motioning to both Claus and Klinger the emptiness of the location.

"Well, we need to hide our things first," Claus suggested, motioning to the three bags behind him, where he and the driver deposited them. "We take our own and hide them in three different places and meet back here before the hour is up. Agreed?"

"I guess." Klinger walked up to his large suitcase of dresses and accessories and picked it up. "I don't trust anyone with what remains of this wondrous Klinger Collection. It's priceless, I tell you. Priceless!"

Hawkeye and Claus exchanged their own looks, the former amused and the latter confused. While the chief surgeon laughed, mouthing that he would explain everything about Klinger later, Claus shook his head, trying to follow along with the joke. Then, knowing that he wouldn't be able to, he shrugged his shoulders and copied what the others did, except running in another direction as Klinger and Hawkeye disappeared with their own things.

A few yards away, a shadowy figure took notes and watched where each man went. Then, he memorized the location of the meeting spot before taking off to gather help.

~00~

In the hot summer sunshine, trapped in a spare tent across the camp, Charles and BJ stood quietly, both impatient and fanning themselves with their hands. While the Bostonian was groaning with obvious distaste about their confinement (especially the hot weather), the Californian stood in his corner, wondering when all this was going to end.

They both had been silent since being arrested and BJ was eager to break it. Hot, not knowing what the next step was and even worried about Hawkeye and Klinger, he stopped his pathetic attempts at cooling himself and sighed. Then, he sat down where he stood, trying to relax, but did not succeed. Words, however, did not fail him.

"Don't you realize that everything's gone downhill since that nurse had been killed?" he asked Charles randomly, the latter also slipping into a seat in his corner. "I mean, Charles, since Nurse Curtis had been murdered and Margaret blamed for the whole thing, this Major Floyd person has been taking over the camp and pointing his finger left and right. He's silenced Colonel Potter to the point where he's afraid to say something, even in his own office. I'm more troubled that the man's taken over this camp."

"If you want to call it that, Hunnicutt," Charles replied, always ready for a rebuttal. "I'd say that it's more a coup d'état, to be more accurate."

"Whatever, Charles," BJ said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "At least we know that Hawkeye is ok so far, according to Radar. Colonel Potter said to him that the phone call was a little strange, but it seems like they're getting more information than we are right now. It also seems like Nurse Curtis' sister works at Tokyo General and that she was married, so this supposed husband of hers is sending them on some wild goose chase to catch the criminal."

"I do believe, my dear bunkmate, that there are more men or women in this murdering spree." Charles smiled a grin that BJ had never seen before, as if he knew something that BJ did not. "You see, Hunnicutt, I have it on good authority that Sergeant Church is dead."

"What?" BJ was shocked, but almost not surprised to hear the news. "Where did you come upon this bit?"

"Well, you know that the insidious military police here in the camp like to brag about what they've found and what has happened and, well –"

"Yes, yes?!"

"Hunnicutt, let me get to the point without your interruptions. Yes, now…where was I?"

"Charles, I'm not up to your games today. Out with it! You said something about the MP's liking to talk about what they found."

"Ah, yes! I remember now. I was passing some of them in line at the so-called 'Mess Tent' the other day and I heard some rather disturbing news about the man who was the lover of Nurse Curtis."

"And this concerns us _how_?"

"Hunnicutt, the man is _dead_. He was killed the same way as Nurse Curtis was and about a few feet away from where her body was. And the blame has been put on _us_."

BJ stared at Charles in confusion. "_We're_…being blamed for this murder?"

"And his lovers' too," Charles reminded him. "You see, we're all part of a group that kills US Army spies."

"But…but how? This doesn't make sense, Charles! I have a wonderful wife and a beautiful daughter at home. If anyone knew me, then why would they think that I want to do this?"

"Hunnicutt, the fact remains that we're stuck here. It doesn't have to make sense, just as long as the parties involved tuck their heads into the sand and make it all go away. However, there are always ways to get past the situation that we are in instead of complaining about it."

"I simply cannot believe that I am hearing this out of your mouth, Charles. You're the King of Complaints. I'm feeling rather apprehensive that you're not yelling at Major Floyd and asking for a lawyer, only for Boston's finest, of course."

"Naturally, I would have. You see, my dear bunkmate, there is more than meets the eye."

BJ was confused once more. "What do you mean?"

Charles smiled that same grin again, as if he was scheming something all along and would not reveal the plan until now. "Why, Hunnicutt, I am shaken that you don't know me as well as you think. After all, after all of this nonsense and then learning a few things from Klinger, I think that this escaping business should be as simple as one-two-three."

"Klinger's been caught every time," BJ said, this time his turn to remind.

"No, no, not if you have a better mind than that Lebanese twit," Charles replied calmly. "Then, you can plan accordingly and help rescue those damsels in distress, as Pierce would say. Now, here is the plan…"


	17. The Best Escape

As Hawkeye came back to their meeting spot after safely tucking his luggage away some minutes from where he was, he couldn't help but think that he was being followed. That nagging pain in the back of his head would not go away. The end of his hair was also standing on end as he strolled carefully through the dark woods, hopefully to see Claus and Klinger once more.

"Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to Grandma's house I go," he sang inanely and then whistled, as if to dispel the ache he was feeling. "Hi ho, hi ho, hi ho, hi ho…"

Equally disturbing thoughts wouldn't go away either. _What happens after we meet this friend of Claus'? Where do we go from there? And what about poor Margaret, trapped in her tent, a murder charge over her head? And those MP's that followed us…are they Major Floyd's, out to arrest…or kill…us?_

Hawkeye became relieved as he met back with Claus at their original meeting spot, but both of them said nothing, preferring to stand next to each other in an awkward silence. However, there was no sign of Klinger as of yet. Both assumed apprehensively that he was still trying to hide the remains of what was his Klinger Collection and wanted to find an appropriate spot before the ladies (and geishas) found it.

"So, who is this friend of yours?" Hawkeye asked randomly as he put his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

"Somebody who might shed some light on this Major Floyd character, like I've told you many times before," Claus replied quietly, looking around the trees as if he, too, knew that they were being followed.

"Does he have a name?" Hawkeye started searching the dark arms that shielded them as well, seeing nothing but the invisible, slight destruction of the light breeze. "We keep asking that too, but John Doe is all I can come up with."

"It does not matter, like I've also said." Claus dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. "He is my trusted contact in Guam and that's all that matters. He commands many men and could get anything from anybody, like a torturer to a prisoner. He's been with me for many years now. I trust him with my life and that of my wife and son."

Hawkeye detected a tone of sadness in Claus' voice, just as he did when the German spoke of Winifred Curtis and their adapted son, but could not think of anything to console him. He could not imagine losing a woman so precious to you, other than family members, and was starting to feel a strange kinship towards Claus. He had lost a woman he loved in cold blood and Hawkeye himself lost his mother at an early age. He also was actually losing one of his closet female friends, the one everyone seems to think that he loved.

_Do I though? As a friend, I'd go to the ends of the Earth for Margaret. To love her? I don't know. I don't think –_

"Wait, did you hear that?" Claus stopped himself, turning to the left and then to the right. "Shh!"

"Hear what?" Hawkeye crouched down just as Claus did and eyed the area that his companion was inquiring about. "I didn't hear any –"

Suddenly, shots rang out.

~00~

It had been a long day already, the summer sun beaming down on the already hot jeep. BJ (and his companions, for sure) was in no mood to head back to the place where he could easily be detained for murder or, worse, killed by a firing squad. Already miles away from the 4077th, he was nervous about leaving. He had been following regulations since he came to Korea for the cocktail party that they called a war, albeit was a prankster along with Hawkeye. On the other hand, when he was arrested for murder and treason, he had been secluded in a tent with Charles and would have done anything to prove his innocence.

However, running away and escaping like Klinger seemed to prove his guilt, even if he wanted to find out the truth. And, for BJ, the stockade was no place for his family to visit him in.

They were almost to their destination even, a plane to Tokyo waiting for them. There was one more checkpoint in Kimpo that Charles had to drive through before they could board the plane and that one would have been the toughest, in BJ's opinion. The others were easy, since none had heard that they had been arrested for something that they had not done. Using Nurse Kellye (escaping along with them) as an excuse to go to Kimpo, claiming that she was sick and needed to be in Tokyo for further examination, both BJ and Charles drove through each MP's checkpoint without problems.

BJ, squirming apprehensively in the passenger seat of their jeep, anxiously twisted his fingers in a ball as they neared the final checkpoint. He was still unable to believe what had conspired within the past twenty-four hours (or even the last few days). Kellye, in the back seat still, was luckily sleeping peacefully, trying to ease away the hours in which she was interrogated, a hell in which she did not want to talk about. Charles, cool as a cucumber, drove with little effort, not showing his innermost thoughts other than his passive demeanor.

"Aren't you in the least bit worried, Charles?" BJ finally asked, untwisting his fingers. "Don't you think that Major Floyd would have radioed them by now? Don't you think that he would have figured out we escaped and would call the airports and his fellow over glorified police officers?"

"Hunnicutt, Hunnicutt, Hunnicutt…have you no faith in me?" Charles braked slowly as he saw an MP raise a sign, to tell them to stop. "We've easily managed to cause chaos in a camp where the action seems to be its middle name. A small part of the camp is in flames. Nurse Kellye was fortuitously in the next tent and dashed out with us. Rizzo had a jeep ready for us, eager to see us off."

"And it makes me wonder what we owe him now," BJ lamented.

Charles chortled as he handed his papers to the MP. When they were given them back without a problem, Charles pocketed them, driving and continuing the conversation. "Hunnicutt, we owe him nothing. He has been accused, like we have, but is awaiting his orders to vacate his usual sleeping corner. In the meantime, he has displayed an unusual distaste for Major Floyd and would do anything to discredit him. The man personally thinks that he alone is responsible for this…ruckus, as he calls it, in the camp. That _should_ tell you something about the man who discovered, along with our Klinger and that Mess Tent maniac, a brutally murdered woman, cut down in her prime."

Charles hooked a right-hand turn, heading to the airport. They had about two miles to go.

BJ, still unsure about how they passed through (and wondering why Charles would indirectly mourn a woman killed), paused. Then: "Charles, I don't know how you did it, but you got us out of there in the nick of time. How did you do it?"

"Elementary, my dear Hunnicutt," Charles replied enthusiastically, although dripping with some sarcasm. "I told you that it was Klinger who gave me many ideas."

"It wasn't just Klinger, Charles. You've been planning this all along."

Charles smiled knowingly, unwilling to part with any information. BJ, on the other hand, had his own ideas of how his bunkmate might have pulled off their amazing escape.

"You had an idea that we were going down with Margaret," BJ theorized. "Since you've been so high and mighty, you had the connections some of us don't. You had the means. All you had to do was time it right, as you've always done things. You overheard Rizzo talk about Major Floyd, so you made a deal with him, especially since all of us, even him, seem to be accomplices in this murder. You forged some paperwork, although I don't know how. And you carried the fireworks that would have caused the distraction we needed."

"Pure speculation," Charles remarked, narrowly missing a pothole left behind by an explosion from long ago.

"If you say so." BJ was quiet for a moment before continuing. "You know, Charles, you could have let us in on the secret. We wouldn't have told a soul."

"And let Pierce run his mouth to the nearest nurse? I think not."

"Margaret would have had some hope."

"Hunnicutt, I have no idea who murdered Nurse Curtis, so my escape plans would have hardly given the poor major _some_ hope of recovering her career and her reputation. Although, I must say, the latter seems to be telling me much more than I realized."

As Charles chuckled, BJ became infuriated. "And Hawkeye? What would you have said about his determination to kick Major Floyd out of the camp permanently?"

"Pierce is _hardly_ an exterminator, so I cannot say whether or not he would help or hinder us in this quest to rid us of this pest. Besides, Hunnicutt, even _you_ at the beginning of this were happily saying that you would stay out."

"Yeah, and now look where we are," BJ answered bitterly. "I might never see my family again after this. After going AWOL and trying to burn down a camp, I think the Army would be very unforgiving and throw us in the stockade, just as they did to Klinger when he escaped last time."

"And he was released," Charles pointed out as the neared the airport.

"Still…" BJ trailed mercifully, hearing Kellye stir in the back seat, yawning as she sat up.

Also unbelieving what she was seeing, Kellye rubbed her eyes in amazement. "We're out of the camp?" she asked excitedly. "We're in Kimpo?"

"Yes, my dear, we are," Charles replied, driving into the airport's gates and trying to find a safe parking spot. "And I think I see an Officers' Club over there. Shall we get a drink and eat a little before leaving for Tokyo?"

~00~

Hair disheveled and his uniform slightly singed from putting out the fire, Major Floyd stomped into Colonel Potter's office. Radar, seeing this as he sat on his cot, had no time to warn the major that Colonel Potter was busily talking on the phone, but could only protest as the double doors swung open violently. At the desk, a startled Colonel Potter stared, apologizing to the person on the other end, and hung up.

Folding his hands together, Colonel Potter continued to stare at Major Floyd, venom in his blue eyes. "What can I do for you, Major?" he asked carefully, fully aware that he had the power to rip his inferior to shreds. "Is the fire out? Are all of your prisoners accounted for and uninjured?"

"It seems like we have a problem here, Colonel," Floyd loudly exclaimed as Radar backed out of the office slowly. "Yes, a fire was started at the south end of the camp and was contained. Also, three of my prisoners are missing and my men have not been able to find them. The immediate area has been combed, but there are no traces of these three."

"And you're missing…?" Colonel Potter unfolded his hands and tapped his desk with his fingers with impatience. Inside, he was rejoicing, hoping that it was who he thought it was.

"Major Winchester, Captain Hunnicutt and Nurse Kellye are missing from their tents. Also, Colonel, there is a jeep from the Motor Pool unaccounted for. It's been assumed that they took it, although the person in charge of the area has not commented yet."

Colonel Potter had to repress a smile, appearing serious. "Anything else, Major?"

"Yes, Sir," Floyd replied, happiness reflected somewhat in his eyes. "We've found Captain Pierce and Corporal Klinger in Tokyo. Another person was with them, but is in serious condition at Tokyo General. That man, Claus Schultz, has been instigating in Army operations and will be tried when he has recovered."

Colonel Potter's heart sank. "And the other two?"

"Unharmed, as far as I know, Sir, but the details are sketchy, at best." Floyd executed his best salute. "I'll let you in on more when I get them, Colonel. Good day to you!"

The salute was returned, but not wholeheartedly. Colonel Potter barely even acknowledged Major Floyd leaving without a proper dismissal, but was more concerned over Hawkeye and Klinger than anything else. The man who led them to the information they have now seems to be one dead man, in his book, and nothing will stop Major Floyd from interrogating them to death, just as they almost did to Margaret.

_Even unhurt, those two are in some fine trouble, trapped in a cell that they can't get out of. Hawkeye would be crazy without a nurse and Klinger would be putting in his best for a Section Eight._

Colonel Potter sighed, thinking. _Hell's bells, though, I sure hope this time that Klinger has the most successful escape plan he'll ever complete…and the most outrageous of all._


	18. Sunshine Through the Window

Her gaze barely left the tent door for the past half hour, awaiting a man that would decide her fate. Her career, her _life_ even, was in his man's hands and nobody could stop him from utterly destroying her, tearing her from limb to limb, just as she had done to so many before. And somehow, Margaret Houlihan knew that this was her due, but did not expect it to be this bad.

For Margaret, though, there was some hope, even if she was due in Seoul in four days, pending a trial that would probably kill her, body and soul. Oh, she had heard some more news from the outside world (much more than her life ending, just three days after being arrested), some words here and there that her captors had said that perked her ears and made her excited or sad. There was always the camp business, busy as usual, although more and more people have been accused along with her and trapped inside their own tents, allowed the liberties that she doesn't have. And then, there was that fire, so odd in a place like this, especially when it was whispered to be intentional…

Margaret, chained to her bed, sighed, turning back towards the one place that allowed her to dream and wonder: her window. She could glance out of the blurry, plastic panes, wondering how life was going on without her around, the bossiest one in the unit. There was no authority figure over the nurses, no one to push the men into shape and most certainly no woman to show that she could do it better than any man could.

Of course, things could be better. For Margaret, as a prisoner, the food and coffee _were_ a little better (albeit, she had fewer meals), even with a Red Cross package due to her. She felt all of her responsibility drain from her, as if it was a relief to be rid of her title as head nurse, but slapped herself because she thought of shirking her duties. And, of course, Major Floyd had promised clemency again and again when he came to see Margaret, especially if she confessed, signing on the dotted line that this person and that had helped her in this new conspiracy that he seemed to be making up. It seemed a lot larger than just the simple murder of an annoying nurse, but then again, it was evolving into the murder of Sergeant Church and some others that Margaret had no idea existed, only being told that they were US spies, hired by the government.

Sharply whipping her head back from the window to face her door, Margaret shook her head in shame. _I blamed Hawkeye, to get Major Floyd to stop harassing me. I can't agree to sign away everybody else's lives too._

Outside, her guards suddenly laughed about something, as if mocking her misery. Then, one complained about the hot weather and the dead bodies that stank, seeing as how Grave Registry hadn't picked them up yet because the unit seemed to be taboo at the moment. The other reminded him to shut up because Major Floyd had ears and eyes everything, surely knowing when his subordinate was whining about his job.

"Remember, you could easily be removed back to the front," the second man reminded him.

Margaret gritted her teeth together in frustration, trying hard to not yell. _How _dare_ they mock those at the front lines, like it was a terrible thing to go there? Those men have been the body and soul of this war, their sacrifices the most that they can offer!_

"Hey, think we can, you know…ask Major Floyd if fraternizing with the prisoner would be against regulations?" the whiner asked his companion, laughing again as he did.

"Probably," the second replied jokingly. "I'm sure we'll get down to the nitty gritty, if he allowed us to. I mean, is that blonde head _really_ blonde? Or does she dye it every night? I heard some rumors around this camp that would make your own head whirl!"

Both of them laughed once more, infuriating Margaret further. However, their merriment died down quickly. Things sounded as if they were dropped suddenly and the two guards were soon stuttering like idiots. Margaret assumed that Major Floyd caught them goofing off and was being saluted with excuses on their lips, to boot.

"Have any of you checked on Major Houlihan in the last hour?" Major Floyd asked them. "The regulations, as you recall, order that the prisoner be accounted for every hour. If not…"

Floyd let his sentence trail, to let the two guards explain themselves.

"Well, I made sure she was in there 'bout half an hour ago," the whiner said. "She was in there, all right, but she kept staring out of her window. You know…the plastic cover thing?"

"And she was there half an hour before that," the second added. "I took her lunch in and waited the fifteen minutes and took her tray out. She's eaten her meal."

"Is she still chained and unarmed?" Floyd then asked, his foot tapping being heard by Margaret.

"Yes, Sir," both exclaimed.

"Good, good…now, here are the new orders, just in from Seoul. While Major Houlihan was supposed to have four days to contemplate her deeds, Headquarters wants her in sooner than that. They want her locked up and on trial in three days, so in two they want her in their clutches. That'll give us the time we need to round up the rest of her stupid conspirators and try them too. In the meantime, we have to wait for Wright and Wellington to call back from Tokyo. Claus Schultz was shot and is in critical condition at Tokyo General. Nurse Curtis herself, that sniffling bitch, is keeping us out and won't let us in on his condition after telling them that."

"So, Major, we're trying to accuse her _sister_ too?" the whiner asked, sounding stupid as he did.

"If I can make the charges stick, I will. I hate that woman with a passion. She's been a hindrance to this investigation and I'm _sure_ as hell that she helped Corporal Klinger and Captain Pierce escape the first time around, when Wright and Wellington's men caught them in Tokyo. I'm also pretty sure that she also has been hiding Claus Schultz this whole time."

"Who's Claus Schultz though?" The second man sounded confused, like he forgot what Floyd was talking about concerning Winifred Curtis' husband. "I thought you said that he was the murdered nurse's hubby there. Isn't he the one that was saying that we should look elsewhere other than the 4077th?"

Floyd was impatient, losing his temper on the second man. Margaret flinched as she heard a smack sound and then a man's soft whimpering.

"You will _not_ put that on report," Floyd growled, most likely at his two guards and not just the one that was hit. "Do you understand me? Seoul believes that Major Houlihan and her company did the deed because _I_ found the evidence, so we should believe that too. We follow no other leads. Is that _clear_, you two?"

"Yes, Sir," the whiner replied.

There was silence afterward, as if the second man was in no mood to deal with Major Floyd. From her position, Margaret thought that, perhaps, the man himself did not like his superior. Regular Army that she was, Margaret could understand a little that to serve a man like that was to serve a brute. Even she could not imagine being under Major Floyd's thumb.

"Gaines? I didn't hear anything from you. I only heard Pyle here say something." Floyd grumbled something else under his breath, obviously irritated, but Margaret could not hear what it was.

"Yes, Sir," the man named Gaines mumbled, a volume barely enough for Margaret to hear. "I won't put this on report. I'll guard Major Houlihan and do whatever else you say, just as I was ordered to."

"Good, good. Now, quit fooling around and stand at attention. Even if you don't act like soldiers, at least _look_ like them." Floyd snickered, but then caught himself, knowing that he was behaving unmilitary in front of his men. "Now, have any of you heard anything about Major Winchester, Captain Hunnicutt and Nurse Kellye?"

"Other than they escaped during the fire?" Pyle asked in his usual high-pitched voice. "No, Sir. I haven't heard anything."

"Me neither, Sir," Gaines offered humbly. "Major, is it possible that the checkpoints from here to the coasts had no description of the people in question? All of the mentioned that everybody had their paperwork in order and that there was nothing suspicious. Only thing that had them concerned was a nurse in the back seat of a jeep. All of them said that two doctors claimed that she was sick and that she had to get to another unit and then to Tokyo for evaluation."

"And what was the name of the two doctors?" Floyd tapped his fingers against Margaret's door inanely. "Like you mentioned that they _should_ do, they should have a description of the three, am I right?"

"Well, we're still waiting on an answer, Sir."

Floyd struck again. This time, his slap sounded like it was harder, a sickening thud almost. It made Margaret almost gasp, wanting to help the man, even if he was her sentry. However much she did, though, there was always that good, warm feeling inside of her, telling her that it was Charles, BJ and Kellye, on the way to help Hawkeye in Tokyo, where she heard he headed to as soon as he could.

_But he's been captured with Klinger. Who knows if they found anything?_ Margaret sighed. _What good would that to for those three, though, other than making them look guilty?_

"What is our case going to be looking like in Seoul if we don't have these answers?!" Floyd yelled at his men, probably loud enough that they heard him from the latrines at the edge of the camp. "When you two are off duty, make _sure_ to contact those checkpoints and get your answers. Check Kimpo, Tokyo and Guam as well. Don't wait for them to call back. And that's an order!"

"Yes, Sir!" Gaines and Pyle responded simultaneously.

"Oh, and one more thing," Floyd added, sounding like he was leaving already. "I have an arrest warrant for one Father Mulcahy, who I'm convinced took down Sergeant Church, the same way Major Houlihan and her gang took down our very own Nurse Curtis. Colonel Potter says that he's at some orphanage some miles down the road and won't be back until tomorrow afternoon. _After_ you've talked to those MP's from here to the coast about our three prisoners, tell them to detain the priest. One of you can pick him up when we know he's been stopped."

"Yes, Sir!" both Pyle and Gaines said again.

Floyd didn't say another word, so Margaret assumed that he left. Even without him interrogating her again, taunting her night and day, she still felt a shiver come up her back and it wasn't only for herself and her friends. As far as she knew, BJ, Charles and Kellye had been accused along with her false confession of Hawkeye. Klinger was automatically added in the mix because he became an accessory to murders that none of them committed.

_Who _else_ might be accused along with us? Would they even stoop down low enough and accuse Colonel Potter?_

Margaret soon turned back to the sunshine of her window, feeling the summer warmth. For her, it may be the only comfort left to her, even as her friends and co-workers here in Korea are arrested left and right. It may be her only way to escape from the danger and horror that they've all experienced thus far, even if war seemed far more horrific than this.

_God, if you're out there, please help us,_ Margaret prayed silently as she stared up at the summer skies. _I know that I'm not one to communicate with you and we're not so well acquainted as we used to be, but please, listen to me, for my sake. Please help us get out of this, with everyone proclaimed innocent. Please help us find who really murdered these people and expose him or her soon. I cannot stand it here any longer…_


	19. Grey Walls Closing In

Claus Schultz was dead and a trial was set for the so-called murderers from the 4077th, set in Seoul. That much Hawkeye already figured out as he listened to his guards, sitting in a cold stockade cell on the other side of the outer fringes of what he always called the "Pearl of the Orient".

Without Klinger (and alcohol, especially from the Swamp still) with him, Hawkeye could not bounce ideas back and forth (either with himself or with others). He could not think straight, being sober for so long and with so many stories and clues in his mind about Winifred Curtis. There was no news other than his new companion dying at Tokyo General (and him and Klinger unhurt, as far as he knew about the cross dressing Lebanese man) and about him being sent to Seoul, along with many others. All he could do was hang his hands behind his back and start that old pace back and forth, sending his mind into a deeper hole.

This time, Hawkeye actually hoped that Klinger had a successful escape plan in mind for once. He was always the mastermind at escaping, but Hawkeye was sure that, creative as Klinger is, he might not have the chance to get his gears going and put his mind in getting out of the stockade.

_Dammit, the walls feel like they're closing in on me. They've closing in on me!_

"All right, so Winifred Curtis was a nasty woman in general and part of an organization to bring back Nazism," Hawkeye said out loud, but not enough for his guards to hear, as he tried to forget the grey walls becoming smaller and smaller. "She's murdered and we're all blamed for it. Why? Why would the 4077th be framed, especially Margaret first? Who has something against us, her especially?"

"Captain, are you in there?" A voice from Hawkeye's right caught his attention after he spoke.

"Am I where?" Hawkeye questioned, trying to follow the voice and figure out who it was. He could not tell if it was someone who was on his side or someone playing a trick on him.

"Are you there, keeping company with a man in skirts next door?" the voice asked again.

Hawkeye immediately figured out who it was, crouching down to the small hole in the wall that he just noticed, where the voice seemed to come from. "Klinger, is that you?"

"The one and only. How are you, Captain?" The cross dressing Lebanese man sounded very optimistic..._too_ optimistic for Hawkeye's taste.

"Oh, other than feeling like a caveman, I can't say that I'm complaining. The food could be better though. And the company…gee, Klinger, you're the only woman out there that would take a man for a ride."

Hawkeye could imagine Klinger smiling. "Listen, Captain, I think we can get out of here. It's a one floor place and the bars seem a little loose, if you get what I mean."

"And hop the fence? Are you kidding me, Klinger? Didn't you see those gorillas at the gate? I bet they didn't start shaving until they were twelve!"

On the other side, Klinger took his parasol (kindly given back to him by one of the guards as a keepsake of his old and grand Klinger Collection) and stuck it in the hole on his side. Gradually loosening his end, he worked towards Hawkeye, giving the last stone a stove to the captain's side. He then peered through, seeing Hawkeye's distraught face for the first time since arriving and being separated hours before.

"I've been watching the changing of the guards, Captain," Klinger said seriously. "For about five minutes at each changing, they leave the doors wide open for someone to leave. The guys in the tower aren't there too. Besides, it's gonna be nighttime soon. We're usually checked on every four hours. If we count it right, we can get out of here alive."

"And do what, Klinger?" Hawkeye hissed impatiently, always watching his own door for the guard. "Even if we got out of here, we'd be fugitives. We'll be wanted by the US Army. It'll be worse for us than being in here."

"And what's worse, Captain? Going to Seoul and standing trial for something we didn't do or escaping and helping Major Houlihan and the others in proving their innocence?"

Hawkeye, staring at Klinger through the larger hole, thought for a moment. Sure, it'd be a nicer way to escape Korea, but the hellhole all of them would be put through would be worse than Korea. Leavenworth wasn't a laughing matter, even when it came down to the practical jokes he and Trapper used to pull on Margaret and Frank Burns. On the other hand, to help the 4077th was a more noble cause, but more dangerous. They would be on the run until everybody was proven not guilty and they could go back to what they originally did, when they were all sent to the middle of nowhere called Korea.

_We'd go back to the meatball surgery. We'd go back to the insanity that we've been trying to escape for so long now. But…but…would that be better than sitting here, accused of murdering someone?_

"I guess we should be making our grand disappearance," Hawkeye replied back, confident that leaving was the right thing to do. "When should we jump out of the hat for the magician?"

"Give me about an hour," Klinger said, holding out a metal filer. "I'll be filing down the window bars. It's a short hop to the ground and to the gates. I've got some things that can help us scale the walls."

"And then, how do we jump down?" Hawkeye was amused that Klinger still kept his collection, but what he still had on him was a mystery.

"Oh, I've got a few parachutes we can use," Klinger answered casually, as if it didn't matter what the material was. "It isn't what we used in basic training, but it'll sure get us to the ground."

~00~

Charles, BJ and Kellye had landed in Tokyo some hours before, only three days after the terrible night Major Floyd came into their lives. They immediately started searching for Hawkeye and Klinger in the first place possible, but even that turned cold quickly. The geishas who had instantly recognized Hawkeye from previous trips had pointed them to Tokyo General, mentioning that they were being chased. Tokyo General, who informed them that they were long gone (and good riddance), pointed them to Hawkeye's favorite hotel, which some of the nurses remembered he liked. That hotel manager there then had told the threesome that Hawkeye had checked out the previous morning, but had also mentioned that he talked with his two other companions about checking into another place.

"Where would Hawkeye and Klinger be?" BJ asked as he, Charles and Kellye exited the hotel, walking in with the night crowds.

"For all we know, they could have been captured," Kellye suggested morbidly.

"Or not," Charles interceded smartly. "Knowing Pierce, he'd be with one of his little painted dolls down at the other end of the city, but since _they_ have not seen him, we may assume something a little sneakier about him."

"What? That he might be enjoying himself instead of helping us?" BJ believed the affirmative to that last question, but with Hawkeye's determination on the matter, he might have forgotten Tokyo's pleasures for once and took on the role of detective. "Charles, listen. For all we know, Hawkeye could be roaming around with a woman. The hotel manager said that he was with two other people. Klinger is most certainly one of them, since the man said that he hasn't seen any woman with hairier legs. And the other, for all we know, could be his new flavor of the month, so to speak."

Kellye nodded in agreement. "Major, we can conclude that Captain Pierce has gone AWOL because he was being blamed for the murders too."

"We can assume that," Charles said, "or we can think like Pierce, disgusting as it sounds. Where would a womanizer like Pierce be working his magic?"

"Someplace secret," Kellye commented with a snicker.

"Precisely! Now, we're thinking." Charles stopped the other two, pulling them into the random doorway to a shop. "Pierce and Klinger could be not exactly _in_ Tokyo, but on the outskirts, as you heathens would call it."

Kellye seemed insulted to be called a heathen, but before she could react, BJ put a reissuing hand on her shoulder to calm her down, saying, "Charles, this isn't exactly the time to be insulting anyone right now. We have a mission, so you like to remind us. We have to help Hawkeye and Klinger get to the bottom of the mystery."

"So we do," Charles conceded, then turning to Kellye. "And I do apologize, Madam, for that wretched insult of mine."

Kellye nodded grudgingly, silently, knowing that there were better things to do than to argue. After all, the enemy of her enemy was her friend. Major Floyd was their common foe and he needed to be eliminated as soon as possible.

"So, where do we go from here?" Kellye then asked. "We ask around for hotels at the edge of Tokyo and look for Captain Pierce and Klinger?"

"We have to do so cautiously," Charles informed her and BJ. "For to be asking around would bring more than just suspicious attention upon us. We have to act as if we are indifferent to them."

"Are you saying that we should pose as people who don't exactly care about them, but are looking for them?" BJ was skeptical, but had to trust Charles' better judgment, for it seemed to get them a lot farther than sitting in a hot camp with a Seoul trial over their heads.

"Well, if we act like an MP and have a prisoner, we might have a little help in getting what we want," Charles explained plainly.

"And how do you two dress as military police if you don't have the proper uniform?" Kellye also looked unconvinced at Charles' plans, but knew that it was the only way to join Hawkeye and Klinger and make the next move. "We can't just ask an Army officer if we can have them."

"Wait a second here…" BJ thought for a moment, back to when they were in the jeep and on the plane. "Charles, that bag you brought on the plane with us…does that have what I think it does?"

"Oh, you mean the one I left at _our_ hotel?" Charles smiled an innocent grin. "Yes, Hunnicutt, that bag may have more tricks up its sleeve than I do."

Kellye realized quickly what Charles had done. "You had this in mind all along!" she accused joyously.

"Not quite, my dear," Charles only replied. "It only took the thinking of a man who graduated at Harvard with –"

There's no time for that, Charles," BJ interrupted as he tugged the two along. "Let's go!"


	20. Russian Roulette

Father Mulcahy came back from the orphanage a day early to a camp in shambles, not knowing what to do. Soon enough, within seconds of returning, he found himself in another tent after being arrested by Major Floyd's disgruntled men, clueless as to the cause of the dishonor. Without the comfort of his Bible or even a pen and paper to write the next Sunday service with (which was fast approaching), he seemed a little out of sorts as well. He had an idea of why he was arrested, just not the exact reason _why_ he also was being accused of a murder (or two) that he obviously did not commit.

_The Lord is my Sheppard. There is nothing I shall lack._

The words of Psalm 23 kept repeating over and over in his mind, but Father Mulcahy did not think this much comfort anymore. After all, he had seen what Major Floyd had done to so many members of the camp and it was not pretty. Locked into tents, starving, not knowing when they were going to see the sunshine again…Father Mulcahy had an idea of what he was facing. It did not give him much courage though, although he was begging for it.

_Oh, Lord, give me that, at least. I need the audacity to face my enemies and to get through this. You know that I am innocent of everything. Let me prove it to them through You!_

Suddenly, the door opened, revealing Major Floyd. Behind him were the two men who had been to Tokyo to search for Hawkeye and Klinger, who appeared to have just returned. Wright and Wellington were their names, if Father Mulcahy remembered correctly, and they were successful in capturing the two men, if the rumors around the camp were right.

Certainly, Colonel Potter wasn't going to say anything about it. Father Mulcahy knew that he had been silenced into submission, not knowing what to do as his camp slowly fell apart. Major Floyd had more power than he did.

_May the Lord give him strength in these coming days. Colonel Potter will need it!_

The last man in closed the door and leaned against it, as if to block anyone from coming in or out, a guardian of some sort. The other posed himself to Father Mulcahy's right, a gun aimed at his head. Major Floyd stood in the center, in front of Father Mulcahy. Shaking, the Padre turned to his interrogator and smiled weakly, showing that he, at least, expected the farce hospitality that he was receiving.

_Surely, they cannot suspect me, a priest, of murdering? Of being part of this conspiracy I have been hearing about? Why, I didn't know any of these people before arriving at the 4077__th__. I met them on my first day here or when they arrived._

"So, Father Mulcahy," Major Floyd began earnestly, crossing his arms. "Major Houlihan had a lot to say about you."

_He's lying._ Father Mulcahy saw into the major's eyes. _Major Houlihan wouldn't bear false witness against somebody like that, especially for murder._

"She began with telling us about Captain Pierce," Floyd continued. "Then, with a little digging, we found out that the murder of Nurse Winifred Curtis and Sergeant Aaron Church had been a plot. Both were US spies, working for the government, and your band of people, who are so un-American, found out that they had information against you. So, Major Houlihan, your natural leader, ordered you all to murder them."

"I bear no enmity towards you and your men, Major, but might I say that these theories of yours seem to be…well, a little on the wild side?" Father Mulcahy tried hard not to grin at his captors, to even _laugh_, about the seriousness in Floyd's face, which quickly turned to disgust. "I am a young priest, you know, Major, and I condone such practices as murder."

"So, you're against this war?" Floyd's eyes flashed with anger.

"I did not say that."

"To be against murder and death is to be against this war. It's unpatriotic, Father, to be protesting a war against our enemy, the Communists."

Father Mulcahy wanted to point out the oxymoron in this statement, but denied his tongue the right to speak it. War is most certainly the murder of thousands, if not millions of people, and all are victims, especially the children. However, for Major Floyd to be so intent on a murder (well, two) was preposterous. It was ironic even to think that to be for a war was also not tolerating murder. However, for a person to be investigating a murder, with so biased in the opinion on war, was a little silly of the Army.

"I did not say that I was closing my eyes to the sins of those against our country," Father Mulcahy said weakly. "I am merely stating that, as a priest, I frown upon those who murder in cold blood. It is nothing against our Korean conflict."

"You are confessing to being un-American!" Floyd yelled, a predator's grin planted on his face.

"Yeah, well, and you're telling me that I have no conscience!" Father Mulcahy yelled back. "I feel so useless in this camp, but to see the suffering people and to comfort them has been, and always will be, my greatest comfort on this Earth. I do not plunge a knife into the back of a man or woman nobody liked. I smiled at them and encouraged to be good to others, to be loving to a person. I do not outright plan a murdering spree with others. I would try to stop them, had I found out about it in the first place!"

Floyd frowned and uncrossed his arms, thinking. _Father Mulcahy's harder than I thought. He isn't cracking. He isn't showing any signs of breaking down. He's as tough as nails, like Major Houlihan was initially. Hell, even we thought that he was too innocent and stupid to defend himself._

The man with the gun – Wright – then moved in at Floyd's silent plea, placing the end of his gun on Father's Mulcahy's head softly. He spun the barrel a few times, allowing it click down slowly and then stop. Finally, he turned to his superior officer, waiting for the order to shoot the priest or to back down.

As Father Mulcahy gulped audibly, Floyd asked, "So, _Padre_, have you ever heard of Russian Roulette?"

Father Mulcahy shook his head rapidly, making sure that the man with the gun would not shoot at the slightest move. No, he had not heard of this "Russian Roulette". Whatever it was, though, he knew that it had something to do with that gun.

"You see, Father, Russian Roulette, as the name implies, originated in Russia, or as we now call it, the USSR, ruled by Stalin." Floyd folded his arms again, clearly enjoying the game he was playing with the Padre. "According to the legend, it began as a suicide game to the officers in the Great War, who were losing so horribly before the revolution. Without any food, water, guns, ammunition, help or inspiration, the officers devised an honorable game in which, if they were overrun by the enemy or lost a battle, would ensure their safety to the afterlife. It was quick and easy."

"Suicide is against God's laws," Father Mulcahy only replied, but with the gun moving closer to his head, he shut up immediately.

Floyd, if he had heard him, continued, despite Father Mulcahy's pleading eyes. "Now, _Padre_, Russian Roulette only needs one bullet and a six chamber gun, which we have, as you can see. One bullet is inserted in and the barrel is spun at random once or maybe a few times. Then, naturally, you shoot at the head. Of course, you have a one in six chance of dying, but it's not our problem now…is it?"

"You know that I didn't murder those people," Father Mulcahy stoutly maintained. "Nobody here did. So, why can't you stuff it where you belong and hitchhike a ride back to Seoul?"

Floyd then nodded to Wright, who then smiled and pulled his trigger before Father Mulcahy could utter a prayer of farewell. No bullet came forward, so Wright spun the barrel again. When it stopped, he nodded to Floyd in return. It was ready for a second round.

Suddenly, without warning, Floyd was in the Padre's face, his hands clasping down on his arms in a tight embrace. "Deny it all you want, Father Mulcahy, but we have solid proof that you've murdered these fine people. You took their lives in cold blood, just like all the others. You rejoiced in it. You danced on their makeshift graves. Hell, you even _planned_ the next murder, the one of Sergeant Church!"

"For all I know, Major, _you_ could have been the murderer," Father Mulcahy blurted out, but immediately regretted. However, there was something in the major's eyes that kept catching his attention and it wasn't just the lying he did.

There was bloodlust in Major Floyd's eyes. Whether or not anybody else saw it during their own interrogations or conversations with the man is another matter. However, to work off of that would help the others in their own investigation…_if_ he got out of there alive and managed to get a word to anybody in Tokyo about it. Even to get a hold of Colonel Potter right about now would make Father Mulcahy's day.

Floyd backed away from Father Mulcahy, ungluing his hands from the Padre's arms in the process, and turned his back on him. Finally, Floyd faced him once more, only to indirectly give Wright the order to shoot once more.

"I'm very sorry, Father," Floyd only said as Wright prepared to pull the trigger once more. "It was nothing personal."


	21. Frying Pan Attack

It was about midnight. Finally freed from the stockade by unusual circumstances (and a fairly good plan from Klinger), Hawkeye and Klinger roamed the streets of Tokyo with unease. From every corner, there were shadows that they imagined to be MP's. From every alleyway, there seemed to be a gun waiting to shoot at them again. In reality, there were the usual thieves, geishas and other honorable and dishonorable people walking the same streets they were, unaware that the two were Army runaways about to head back to their hotel and decide where to go from there.

Unable to speak until they reached a safe distance away from the stockade and the crowded sidewalks, the two quickly dodged left and right, zigzagging and avoiding the usual routes. However, to make things appear normal, they had to go back to their hotel and decide whether or not it was safe to stay the night. Both were thinking that it was becoming more and more dangerous to stick around as they dug deeper into this case and they were ready to make another run for it.

As they drew neared to their destination, which they finally noticed was named the Rose Petal Hotel, Klinger spoke. "Wasn't that some ride down the wall, Captain?"

"Klinger, I don't think that I've ever used tied up bloomers as a parachute before," Hawkeye commented quietly as he opened the door to the hotel at long last. "It was certainly something to remember, especially peeking up the holes."

Klinger grinned, walking in with Hawkeye, to ask if they had any mail, messages or visitors while they were out for the long day they've already had. The clerk at the desk, eying their dirtied clothing and faces with a raised eyebrow, announced that they had company to be wary of, the three people taking rooms next to theirs and what was Claus'. He mentioned to Hawkeye (without asking where Claus was), with a wink, that one of them was an exquisite lady, but a lovely prisoner in many ways.

"And the other two?" Hawkeye asked, nervous as he tugged at his uniform collar.

"Well, I don't know," the clerk, who identified himself as Daichi, replied just as anxiously. "The two men were military police with a female they've caught and suspected of murder, they said. They also said that they were looking for you and Ms. Klinger."

"Hey," Klinger warned jokingly, waving his gloved hand.

Daichi looked at Klinger and shook his head with amazement. "I'm sorry, Ms. Klinger, but you look more like an ugly, hairy woman than a man. Anyway, they said to keep you here at the hotel, to stay put."

"Any reason why?" Hawkeye then asked, gulping as he dug out a couple of American bills and laid them before the messenger with what seemed to be bad news.

Daichi ignored the subtle bribe hint and looked at Hawkeye with honest eyes. "The one with the stupid moustache wanted you two for questioning. The other one, who has his nose in the air, added that the woman knew something about you."

Hawkeye's heart sank. _It might be Margaret with Major Floyd. However, I don't recall Floyd ever being as pompous as our Chuckles or ever having a moustache. And I know him to be a man to handle things on his own mostly, with two men at his side at all times._

Klinger took Hawkeye's money from the desk, hid it in his dress pocket, and sighed. "Are we in any trouble, you think?" he asked the clerk, scared.

"No, I don't," Daichi answered cheerfully (_too_ cheerfully in Hawkeye's mind), turning around to tend to the mail for other customers. "If you go to your room, you can find out. Those fellows don't look serious, so don't take it so hard. It could be worse."

Hawkeye and Klinger, seeing that the conversation ended, then backed away from the desk together and turned around to the stairs, each instinctively wrapping their arms around the others' shoulders. Both did not speak again, feeling as if they were being watched and their every word recorded. Both also figured that, this time, they were truly trapped. They figured that their escape had been found out and Floyd had personally come to taint them with Margaret as they were captured again.

"We have to overpower them, no matter what," Hawkeye then whispered to Klinger, directing him to the stairway that led to the kitchens. "And I think they have some pans down there."

"Take down some MP's with guns while we have kitchen pans?" Klinger was shocked, not realizing that he was obeying Hawkeye's silent order to walk downstairs instead of up. "Surely, Sir, you have a better idea. Being chased after them and then being caught not once, but twice, is not lucky in my book. And trust me, Captain. I've done enough escapin' in this war. I've been chased, hog tied and even whistled at as those MP's caught me and dragged me back to hell. Once, even one of them thought it was funny to keep my skirt up once after tying me down. And trust me, hairy legs, in plain sight, in the middle of the road in Korea, was not my idea of a fun afternoon in the sun. They even torn apart that yellow umbrella I had, the one that Colonel Blake said matched my eyes."

Hawkeye had to try hard not to laugh, but managed to let out a snicker as their footsteps echoed down to the kitchen, it being empty save for a maid or two running upstairs. Despite the painful mention of the now-dead Henry Blake, he could easily imagine Klinger tied up in the back seat of a jeep, his skirts hiked up and a colorful, cheery parasol torn by the side of the road, near a minefield.

"I'm sorry, Klinger," he managed to say, finally laughing out loud. "That's just…"

As Hawkeye laughed hysterically, still held up by Klinger (even if he had lost grip of the young Lebanese's shoulder already), he worked out a plan. It was almost as crazy as Klinger's first successful one at that, but it would also help them escape again and help the 4077th. And it had to be successful, as Klinger was in his first ever true escape.

And Hawkeye Pierce knew, as he and Klinger entered the stench that was the kitchen, that he was crazy. And being just that was going to get him out of there alive.

~00~

BJ, still dressed as an MP (and playing the part well enough to keep nosy neighbors out), stuck his head out of his room at the Rose Petal Hotel and scanned the hallways left and right for the millionth time that evening. It was way after midnight, almost one in the morning, and he had seen no signs of Hawkeye and/or Klinger. And the clerk downstairs named Daichi had assured them that this was the place that the two, along with a male friend, had camped out for the night.

"Hunnicutt, you're not going to make them appear magically if you keep your head out there," Charles lightly called out to him from his bed. "We're supposed to remain at a _low_ profile, not keep showing ourselves every minute or so."

"I know, Charles, but Hawkeye and Klinger not being here yet is…disturbing, to say the least." BJ popped himself back into the room, shutting the door behind him, and faced Charles and Kellye sitting on the bed together. "If I didn't know better, I'd say that Major Floyd caught them, held the hostage even, and they won't see the light of day ever again."

"We can't be sure of that," Kellye replied nervously. "I don't think that Major Floyd had news of them being captured just yet, if it happened. If he did, he would have gloated it."

"Nurse Kellye is right," Charles conceded, nodding his head. "However, we still need to keep our cover. Daichi surely would give Pierce and Klinger an accurate description of us, therefore enabling them to come to us, not the other way around. We've chased them enough and been to too many hotels that Pierce would have _surely_ inhabited for a stay in Tokyo. Now, it's time for them to find _us_."

"It's a possibility that they've missed us," Kellye pointed out. "Or Daichi could not have told them many details and they could have run again."

"With that overly-large mouth of his? I doubt it." BJ rubbed his moustache. "I think Hawkeye would have gotten the idea by now that we're here, even if he can't believe it."

"We also don't know what news he has. Klinger, with a nose to the wind, might though." Kellye seemed sure of herself, but even doubt crowded her mind. "_We_ don't even know what's going on at the camp. The last of the wounded we've had, last I saw, were being shipped out to the 8063rd and the beds have been emptied. The front lines are moving around too. It's like Major Floyd is clearing the place for his own personal gain. However, I don't have an idea what it is yet."

"With only Colonel Potter there and probably the whole camp by now being accused of murder and conspiracy, I feel sorry for abandoning him," BJ added. "And you're right. Major Floyd _does_ seem to have an agenda of his own."

"Indeed." Charles was pensive, both BJ and Kellye noticed, and seemed to be in his own world of thought. "There is more to this than meets the eye, however. And it baffles me that I know not what it is."

"Yeah, well, and it has something to do with Margaret mostly," BJ theorized. "They started with her, worked their way to Hawkeye and then to Klinger and then to the rest of us."

"And nobody's seen the evidence," Kellye added.

"Because there _is_ none," Charles said, back into awareness. "If you have a scheme to take a certain someone down and their loved ones and friends with them, how would you go about it, per say?"

"Make yourself an authority figure," Kellye said, vindictiveness in her voice. "Make yourself another McCarthy."

"It's almost like the Red Scare at home, but worse, more like our Curtis Scare." BJ sounded worried, but it soon dissipated. "Except, of course, the biggest mystery here is why our rat, Nurse Winifred Curtis, was murdered and made into a martyr. Last time I checked, obscene women _didn't_ make it into heaven."

Charles chuckled. "I think Father Mulcahy would have a better answer for that, Hunnicutt."

"Yeah, well, he's not here and neither are Hawkeye and Klinger. I think I'm gonna go out again and check the hallway. I think a walk might help."

"Remember to act your part," Charles reminded him. "We can't afford to be found out, mind you."

Kellye nodded her consent.

"All right, all right, I'll be careful," BJ conceded. "I'll be back within fifteen minutes. It should give me enough time to hunt down Hawk and Klinger and enough time for the both of you to worry."

"We'll call Daichi is you're not back," Kellye warned as BJ got up and headed to the door.

"Yeah, yeah…" BJ quickly went out and closed the door behind him, again searching up and down the hallway for any sign of his best friend and the Lebanese companion.

_There's nothing still. And it's almost one in the damned morning. Jesus, why can't Hawk choose a better time to make me worried? When I see him, I'll never let him go and keep him on a leash._

BJ took a left-handed turn and started for the stairs. Suddenly, though, before he reached them, he saw movement. It seemed like two people were hiding in the shadows of the stairwell, waiting for someone or something to come by. Before he knew it, one of them, in an olive green blur, came running towards him, waving something that resembled a kitchen frying pan.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH‼!"


	22. Needle in the Haystack

"Hawk, you know that I love you and all, but couldn't you…you know…hit me with something lighter and less threatening than a frying pan?"

Hawkeye and Klinger, sitting in the room that Charles, BJ and Kellye shared together, faced BJ as he rubbed his forehead, sore from being hit blindly by Hawkeye with the pan he retrieved from the kitchen below. Kellye offered to tend to the huge bruise, but BJ waved her off, adding that he can put his own ice pack on his head and keep it there. In the meantime, he and Hawkeye had to exchange what was going on and put some pieces together.

"Sorry, Beej, I didn't know if you were Floyd or not." Hawkeye rubbed the back of his own head in an apologetic manner, as if feeling the same pain that his friend did. "Daichi didn't tell me who had come. I just didn't think that you would come following us after all."

"Yeah, well, Floyd's got the camp in an uproar and is having arrested people left and right it seems," BJ replied sarcastically, taking the ice pack off of his head gently. "The last I heard, Rizzo had been accused, as well as me, Kellye and Chuckles here. Father Mulcahy was next, after he got back from the orphanage."

"I concede your point, Hunnicutt, but we have yet to tell Pierce what this majestic _dog_ has been doing to what was left of the sanity of the camp, as if there was any to begin with." Charles stood in one corner, his arms crossed in an impatient stance. "After all, you didn't get to the part where Floyd arrested you and Kellye in surgery, allowing a patient to die from the contamination, and demanded that we be arraigned in a tent, like common criminals."

BJ cringed, remembering the night that he and Kellye were arrested. Nobody had come to pick up the body of the soldier either, last he knew.

_Gee, what a fitting end. You're on the table on moment and dead the next because some loon thinks your doctor and nurse are murderers._

"Gee, Charles, I'd never known that you could be so Communist," Hawkeye commented acidly as BJ mused away, annoyed as he recalled his bunkmate's almost snobbish manners.

"Captain Pierce, they've right," Kellye added before the Swampmen could start arguing amongst themselves again. "Major Floyd has been keeping Colonel Potter locked up in his office most of the time, pretending that he can come and go as he pleases. The wounded have been transferred out, as far as we know. Nobody's been in or out except for us, and again, that's as far as we know."

"And, thanks to Charles, we escaped alive." BJ beamed with pride, as if Charles and not Erin was the apple of his eye.

"Yeah, well, I have Klinger to thank for ours," Hawkeye said with some warmth. "Without his bloomers, I don't think we would have been able to scale the stockade walls and get out."

Klinger blushed in his own corner, a new, clean dress covering his embarrassment. "Aww, it was nothing, Captain."

"However, with luck on our side, I'm pretty sure that we can still solve this little mystery and get Floyd out of the camp." Hawkeye stopped rubbing his head and stood up. "It's not just Margaret anymore that we have to worry about. All of us here have been accused of conspiracy and murder. Caught, we'll never be heard from again. On the streets, we might have a chance of survival."

"And take time in the stockade for it?" Kellye's eyes widened. "Captain, remember that we're free, but we're also on the run. No matter what we do, we're finished."

"And more's the reason to find out why we've been named as murderers," Hawkeye argued. "We're damned if we do and damned if we don't."

"You know, I have some false names we can –" Klinger began, seeing his chance to escape for good.

"No!" Kellye and the Swampmen yelled together.

"No, no, my lovely Klinger," Charles then added as he went to the Lebanese man and wrapped his arm around a silky shoulder. "It's been to – let's say, _catch_ a criminal this time."

"So, what do you have on your end?" BJ asked Klinger and Hawkeye, to change the topic. "You two find anything out so far?"

"Well, many things," Hawkeye began with hesitation, eying BJ's ice pack as his friend put it down on the bed. "And some things, you just won't believe."

"Being accused of murder is something I can't believe, so try me," BJ offered.

Sighing, Hawkeye soon explained their trip, from Gayle Curtis to Claus Schultz and how they were caught during gunfire. Klinger interjected a few times, but was shooed away each time, all of the officers knowing that he was keen on leaving the war and was only trying to put a good word in. At the end of the story, when Hawkeye reached the part about seeing shadows in the hallway and running with the frying pan, BJ whistled in amazement.

"Surely, you jest, Pierce?" Charles asked before anyone else could, also incredulous. "Nurse Winifred Curtis doesn't strike anyone as a woman of _means_ or aspirations. Wanting to change the world and be what you call a 'double agent' doesn't fit her bill either."

"I'm with Chuckles on this one," BJ added. "Winifred Curtis being married and having an adapted son now under a man who commands a bunch of people who want Nazism back seems like a bunch of silliness to me. Worse, the same guy is holding her son hostage in the US and also has a hand in Nurse Curtis' murder, but only giving a helping hand. You could have been set up by either one of those two, Hawk, either Claus Schultz or Gayle Curtis. Moreover, you could have been killed."

"And if we were set up, then why was Claus Schultz killed?" Klinger asked, the topic of Toledo closed for the moment. "If he was on their side, then he would have been captured, a big arrest shown to us and we'd find out later on down the road that he was shady."

"I agree with Klinger," Kellye said. "The story seems incredible, but other than her crude behavior, Nurse Curtis being a Nazi spy does make sense."

"How so?" Hawkeye narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What did you hear from the women's gossiping corner?"

"Well," Kellye began uneasily, "Nurse Curtis was always talking about being an aide to General MacArthur and boasting about her trip to Germany before the last war. And we found out it was true, Major Houlihan looked into it for us."

"Major Houlihan doing a favor is like the government ending this war," BJ said. "It's harder than we expected."

"Yeah, well, she was curious too," Kellye replied. "She didn't say anything, but even Major Houlihan was having doubts, like the rest of us. All of us were afraid of telling her the truth though."

All of the men leaned in. "Which was?" Klinger asked carefully.

"She liked talking about being a Nazi," Kellye whispered fearfully. "We thought she was joking, that it was all part of her personality. It wasn't, we figured, the more she talked about it and the more she mentioned leaving the Army by herself. We thought about telling Major Houlihan to call Major Freedman or somebody, but there was no case to build it on. She just was nasty, that's all."

"Or just plain stupid and indiscreet," BJ commented.

"Why tell the nurses and nobody else though?" Hawkeye mused. "You girls talk the moment something is said. The whole camp knows about somebody's business the moment it comes out of their mouth."

"She swore us to secrecy." Kellye started shaking, as if remembering something.

"Why?" Hawkeye then asked, drilling her harshly.

Kellye only looked at him, still frightened. "I know she's dead, Captain, but it doesn't mean that I'm still scared of her. I don't want to be murdered like she was."

"Come on, Kellye, what did Nurse Curtis threaten to do to you?" BJ then asked, trying to make the mood lighter by joking. "It's not like her dead body is going to come up and bite you. Her ghost can't haunt either."

"The same thing that happened to her," Kellye answered, still shaking hard. "She threatened to shoot us several times, hack our heads off until it was barely attached to our bodies and cut our tongues out."

~00~

Well after midnight, Colonel Potter and Radar sat hurdled in the former's office, going through paperwork, but hiding some files underneath their cover work. After all of the activity that Major Floyd had been fluttering around the camp, the two were more than worried, especially Colonel Potter, about what was going to happen to everyone. After being all but striped of his command, his whole camp (save for himself and Radar) now accused of conspiracy and the wounded evacuated, he had to do something or more people were going to hang.

_And it won't be just Margaret who would be hanging from a noose._

"And sign here, Sir," Radar said out loud for the guard outside the doors to hear, the same man Floyd had posted earlier in the day, to keep an eye out on them. "You remember the form for more tongue depressors and X-ray thingees and other –"

"I understand, Son," Colonel Potter interrupted, signing each form and then trying to see an opportunity for privacy, but catching no breaks from the guard. "Any other paperwork that needs my John Hancock?"

"Well, there are those transfer papers for Nurse Haines. You know, the new one who came here just before that thing happened and she's all sorts of scared and wants out of here and everything now."

"Radar, you don't need to hide a terrible event like murder and conspiracy. Yes, I understand the need to transfer after such events happened. However, all transfers right now are subject to Major Floyd's jurisdiction. Deny it for now, but I'll talk with her later. Anything else?"

"Nothing, Sir," Radar only replied, winking with much effort, like always. "I'll just file those papers you signed right now and take the copies of the ones you signed and file those too or send them out."

"You do that," Colonel Potter said, their signal to pretend to do their normal routine, but to go through the file they retrieved. "I'll be here until you're done."

"Right, Sir." Radar took the paperwork and the file underneath it all to the cabinet, opening it out of the guard's eyeshot and putting the papers away as he glanced here and there at the file. After scanning line after line with little light and squinted eyes, he found finally found what he and the colonel were searching for.

Returning back to Colonel Potter after filing everything, Radar carefully slipped the precious file underneath some other files on the colonel's overcrowded desk. He winked again, feeling the guard's presence behind him (and fearing the weapon he held), proud that he found the needle in the haystack. There was one somewhere, Colonel Potter had said, and there it was for them to see finally.

"You know, Colonel, I think you could check the fourth drawer of the filing cabinet," Radar mentioned in the agreed code, about to leave. "It has something stuck there and I think it's jammed again. I can't fix the thingee."

Colonel Potter nodded, smiling broadly. "I'll check it later tonight, Radar, after finishing up my last reports. You go to bed. Be back here at six hundred hours in the morning so we can go over the paperwork again. I think we missed something. I'm sure there's another supply form we need to fill out."

"I think so too, Sir." Radar turned to leave, aware that the colonel wanted to talk with him in the morning about what they found. "I'll find that missing form in the morning, if there is one. Good night, Sir."

"Good night, Radar. Remember, be here at six hundred hours."

"Yes, Sir."

Colonel Potter watched Radar and then the guard vanish from his sight for sure before picking up the file left on his desk. He was sure that he had a few minutes to see what Radar was talking about before another guard came by to check on him (sure that Radar would also keep watch and warn him). Strange, he saw, how he had been in the Army for so long and now, when the time came that good people were wrongly accused, he had been pushed along with them and suspected of worse crimes than they had supposedly committed. The loyalty to his country had been questioned and it hurt him to the bone.

After slipping the file in his hands quickly, Colonel Potter swiveled his chair around and opened it, gently leaving no evidence behind that he, too, had been snooping around. He then smiled again, this time to himself, and settled comfortably before opening to page four.

"Ah, Major Floyd, let's see what caught Radar's attention," Colonel Potter said to himself quietly. "Let's see what dirt we can dig up on you."


	23. Starlight So Bright

Starlight, always so bright, spilled abundantly through the small window, as if God had sent them some message that things would be ok, as if all of their prayers had been answered and people freed, like the Israelites from Egypt's rule. However, for Father Mulcahy and his new companion in their prison, Major Margaret Houlihan, he knew that things weren't going to be as good as he thought they would. He only had been in the major's tent for an hour now, but had spoken nothing and pretended to sleep, as if wearied from the ordeals that God had given him. He had closed his eyes and listened to Margaret's fast breathing for that hour, hearing one so anxious to know her fate.

_If only she had more faith, then I could help her. Oh, if Major Houlihan had more faith like I did, then my job would be easier…_

It could be worse for the unlikely duo. Both were uncomfortably chained to the other on the same bunk. No matter the jokes that Major Floyd had been saying around the camp about Hot Lips and the lonely priest, the two were obviously very miserable, but not in each other's company. In that one hour alone, though, the two realized that the stakes had gone up and they had to bet or lose the games. Interrogations had been tougher, they both knew. Rules had been stricter, especially with the guards. Worst of all, life and death seemed to be more than a pastime, but a reality to them. Russian Roulette, most certainly, had been the start, but was never the finish. Floyd had played more than that, but as always, God had provided and allowed the two to live.

And yet, the two also had one day left with the 4077th M*A*S*H. Major Floyd had deemed the two of them the leaders in the ring to kill off US spies and to bring back an un-American way of life, one containing Nazism or Communism, depending on the minute (and Floyd). That, Margaret, on the other side of the cot, knew, was treason and was punishable by death, as if the murder charges weren't under the same punishment. In Seoul, they can be easily convicted and shot in front of a firing squad within a few days.

And it had only been three days after Margaret's arrest still. She thought she had more time in the camp, but Floyd had cut it down from three days to one. It means that he was desperate to get the trial and execution going, intent to destroying her and the camp altogether.

_We can't allow it to happen, but what else we can do? Oh, God, help me and Father Mulcahy get out of here before Seoul!_

Margaret then saw that Father Mulcahy was awake in a way, but stiff from sitting up in the cot like she was, chained together as they were. Nighttime had given them more fears, she saw, but it was the one about them leaving for Seoul that had her dizzy with fear mostly. Even she saw that in Father Mulcahy's eyes when he saw her blue eyes running straight in to his. However, she also had an inkling, one that told her that he had also been praying just as much as she had, if not more so.

"Well, Major, I can't say I enjoy the situation we are in now, but I most certainly can say that the night is hot, although a little beautiful up there," Father Mulcahy started, to ease the tension a little as he pointed upward to the skies, his hand shaking as he did.

"What news do you have of the camp?" Margaret then asked, eager to know more about the outside world she was no longer a part of instead of how beautiful it was outside the plastic panes. "Father, I need to know, not stare outside and wish God would help us. I've prayed and contemplated and I need to take some action now. It's the only way I can help myself and the others. What's going on in the camp? What are the plans everyone seems to be making without consulting the other? I've heard nothing except what Major Floyd tells me or what I hear him tell his guards."

"There isn't a lot," Father Mulcahy revealed, seeking to comfort the major with the truth and not the lies he was ready to say. "A lot of people have been accused, along with us."

"That much I can heard already now, Father. But what else?"

"Well, did you hear about Hawkeye and Klinger?"

"Yes, yes, they've been captured by Floyd's men. What else, Father, what else?"

"BJ, Nurse Kellye and Major Winchester seem to have escaped."

Margaret made an impatient gesture with her hands, the chains shaking along with her. "Yes, yes, I know that, Father. Anything else?"

"Well, no. There hasn't been a lot of news lately. The war goes on, the wounded are gone and this camp has been turned into a no-go zone. Nobody is allowed in or out without Major Floyd's special permission."

"And the war news hasn't been good, has it?"

"We might be mobile soon, Major, but it won't bother us if we're going to Seoul the day after tomorrow. Or is it tomorrow?"

Margaret gulped audibly, visibly on the verge of tears.

"Now, now, Major, things will be fine." Father Mulcahy strained his arms and reached out to pat Margaret's hands, hers wringing each other tightly. "You know that we always survived trips like this. Surely, Major Floyd would allow us to go along if Colonel Potter had to move the camp? Surely, he would think of our safety, if we were prisoners?"

Margaret almost laughed at Father's Mulcahy's naivety and his constant hope in human nature, but kept her mouth trembling, showing fear instead of insane laughter or looking away, like she wanted to. "Perhaps, Father, but I doubt it. Major Floyd would rather take us to Seoul than bother Colonel Potter to build us a prison. We do have a court date, remember?"

"Oh, dear, you are right, Major. We have a date with the judge quite soon, don't we?"

"You aren't scared of that, are you, Father? Don't you think your own life would be ruined by an accusation like this?"

Hands still in Margaret's, Father Mulcahy looked quite honestly into his companion's eyes once more. "No, I am afraid of that. Of course, no human would admit to not feeling fear about their lives seeming to end, would they?"

"A fool," Margaret agreed.

"However, you know we have one judge," Father Mulcahy continued, looking up and then back to Margaret. "And I don't fear Him, Major. He is all that matters in our lives."

Margaret nodded, seeing the logic Father Mulcahy had, even if she didn't quite agree with it. Yes, she believed in God and that somehow, somewhere, that omnipresent presence would help people. However, having prayed for help and received nothing, Margaret was running out of energy to plead for something that would not happen, especially since the only person who believed in helping her was captured himself, last she heard. And she had so much depending on Hawkeye.

_For all I know, Hawkeye and Klinger could be trapped in a prison and tortured. We, as a country, are not above doing that, especially when it concerns murder._

"I don't know if I am as reverent as you are in your prayers, Father, but you are a joy to have in this darkened world already," Margaret admitted, finally gripping the Padre's hands back.

"You have asked for help from Him?" Father Mulcahy again inclined his eyes upward.

"In a manner of speaking, yes, I did ask for some help." Margaret seemed a little embarrassed to admit it, but she knew that, in order to be helped by someone, even from a person could not offer a hand, she had to be truthful. "I have to believe in something, Father. We all do, I guess."

Before Father Mulcahy could reply, there was some noise outside and then a friendly knock on the door, a familiar, young voice behind it. "Message for Major Houlihan and Father Mulcahy."

Margaret sighed and raised her eyebrows as she quickly disengaged her hands from Father Mulcahy's before calling out. "Come in, if you dare."

Immediately, Radar came in as the guards admitted him, beaming with pride. Carrying some paperwork, he appeared to be the normal clerk everyone sees him as. However, he also appeared like something good had happened for once and that something was about to happen in their favor.

"Radar, what's the matter?" Father Mulcahy asked incredulously, seeing the happiness in the young man's face. "Has something happened?"

"Father, Major, I don't know how to say this, but I think we have something to help us," Radar began in a whisper, breathless with anticipation and enthusiastic to tell the two about what he and Colonel Potter had found. "We – well, me and Colonel Potter, but mostly Colonel Potter calling around – did some digging and we found Major Floyd's file and –"

"Radar, you know you can't do that," Margaret interrupted rudely, but quietly. "It's against Army regulations."

"For once, Major, I think we should let Radar finish, regulations or not," Father Mulcahy said, nodding to Radar. "Go ahead, Radar. Tell us what's going on."

"Well, we found out something about Major Floyd that we didn't expect really," Radar replied softly, suddenly interested about the guards at the door and who was listening and not.

"And what's that?" Margaret then asked, inpatient to know what they had on Floyd that was suddenly so interesting.

"Major Floyd was originally named Major Ploid," Radar revealed, becoming more excited as he spilled the news. "His dad was shot for being a spy in Europe and was blamed by Nurse Curtis' dad, who was also blamed for being a…traitor, I think Colonel Potter said it was."

"And?" Margaret almost yelled, calmed down by Father Mulcahy.

"The person who found out about it was _your_ dad, Major," Radar added. "Your dad accused Nurse Curtis' dad of treason – or, that's what Colonel Potter called it – and then he accused Major Floyd's dad and he was shot."

"Major Floyd changed his name?" Father Mulcahy mused out loud. "He changed his name after a disastrous personal event in his life and has been plotting some revenge?"

"Perhaps for years," Margaret added, disheartened as she sank further into her cot with shame at the truth. "Major Floyd was planning his revenge on my family for years for what my father and Nurse Curtis' father did to his."


	24. Caressing Winds

Wilhelm "William" Foster, formally part of one of many resistance fighters from the Second World War and now a genuine US citizen and CIA, had been watching and waiting in that Tokyo park, in all of his meeting spots, all day and well into the night. He was still waiting for Claus Schultz to show up and it had been hours since that gunfight. He didn't know what was going on and had even held his men back before having them carefully walk through the woods, staying away from their first place of interaction.

However, Wilhelm was a little uneasy. _Too_ uneasy, to be sure, and also sick with nerves, on top of that.

_Where the hell could Claus be?_

Since that night Claus had called him from Tokyo to his wonderful home in Guam and had him and his subordinates check out a certain "Major Floyd", he had not been sleeping or keeping himself neat, knowing that this man was now a person of interest. Every file had been combed through cautiously and every person interrogated to see what kind of person this man was and why he was somehow connected to their line of work, one that would bring down Nazism once and for all. There wasn't much so far, but the information that Wilhelm had gathered was worth it.

_Too bad, though, it had to kill a few innocents along the way. Flagg always turned the other way, even if it cost him another arm and leg. But it was what destroying the un-American way of life is all about, according to him._

And now, just as Wilhelm was about to meet Claus to bring forth information (for whatever reason Claus wanted it), he had heard gunshots, that gunfight that he always dreaded in each encounter with every agent. Running in the opposite direction with his men and aides, he hid with the others at the second spot he agreed to meet Claus at. Yet, nobody had arrived yet, not even Claus' new Army friends, who might have might not have known where to turn to next. Claus mentioned them, saying that that they were on their side, but did not know much…and were a thorn in Flagg's side nonetheless.

"Especially that Hawkeye Pierce," Claus whispered as Wilhelm listened sleepily, his wife Lily yawning as she realized that her husband was awake and on the phone once more. "I'm sure those two would like be water and oil."

_Dammit, where are Claus and his Army idiots now? Chickened out on us?_

"Damn the man who wakes up a man and his wife in the middle of the night," Wilhelm cursed silently as he still stood on the fallback position, thinking of his lovely Lily in Guam, still waiting for him to come home safely once more. "Damn Claus and his filthy wife, that dead so-called nurse who used to dote on that filthy son of theirs and then send him far away. Damn to hell General Hannibal most of all, that rat!"

"Sir?" Wilhelm's youngest aide, Lucy Wilder, looked up to her boss as she looked from her binoculars to Wilhelm. "Are you ok?"

Wilhelm waved his hand dismissively, the scowl wiped from his face quickly. "Yes, yes. I wonder why Claus hasn't showed up though. It isn't like him."

"Grief that Winifred is dead?" Lucy suggested crudely, bluntly even. "Who knows, Sir? Perhaps Claus had other plans with other women?"

There was no love lost between the two women and Wilhelm knew it. The first time Winifred had met Lucy was the last time Lucy allowed anyone near her eyes with long fingernails. The Nazi turned nurse (or so Claus had said quietly) had purposely grown her fingernails out long enough to scratch Lucy's eyes out. Luckily, though, the aide moved fast and the nurse grazed her cheeks.

"No, I doubt it, Lucy. Something must have happened. Get some scouts over to that meeting spot and get a move on with it. Check the area alone if you need to and bring them in for backup, for all I care. I'll be on the other side in a few minutes with you all if you don't get back here."

"Right, Sir." Lucy started to move, but then stopped when Wilhelm raised his hand in an authoritative motion to get her attention again.

"You know, Lucy," Wilhelm started, rubbing the scruff that started to form on his chin, "I'm pretty sure that Flagg's got his own boys down there as well. Make sure that they aren't smearing anything on the Army guys that Claus has with him. They have to know they're all on the same side, like it or not."

"Yes, Sir."

"And one more thing, Lucy. Make sure that none of General Hannibal's goons are over there as well. I don't know if they've found out about Winifred or even Claus yet, but if they do, Flagg would want to know about it, especially when we're through here. Those Nazis are going to be making their own move soon enough and start pointing fingers. I know we're pretty close in bagging the whole organization, but I want to be there before Flagg sniffs a thing and ruins everything with his pathetic fighting styles. I bet he hasn't seen the change in the air yet and I want to keep it that way until we have the whole picture to send to him. Know what I mean?"

"If he hasn't already known about all that," Lucy snickered lightly as she dodged her way through the trees and climbed up one. "Yes, Sir!"

~00~

Hawkeye scampered nervously through the park he and Klinger were with not even a day ago, dodging thick branches left and right as he searched for the spot that he and Claus were in seconds before the MP's came in to kill or arrest them. It seemed like, after being frightened by Kellye, that he needed some air, since he couldn't sleep. The only way to get the images out of his mind was to walk away from them. He needed to find something, but what it was, he could not tell.

_And I needed to walk away out of that hotel. Too bad I can't do it in Korea._

The woods were so deep that Hawkeye couldn't remember the way. Surely, it being just before dawn and still night technically, he would be circles for a while. However, when he spotted a unique tree in the first rays of light that he kind of remembered seeing when Claus led him and Klinger to their meeting spot, he held some hope that he might find what he was looking for, whatever it was. He then hooked a left on the obscure trail behind that tree and walked slowly until he found the space where he and Claus stood not even a day before.

_I wonder…_

Hawkeye ambled to the same position he held when he and Claus heard and ducked gunfire. Standing there, the same way he did before the guys with guns came by, he looked around. Nothing seemed out of place. Nobody seemed to be around except for, perhaps, the ghosts of those who still hover, also searching for an answer to a question that could not be asked out loud.

Suddenly, Hawkeye heard a loud rustle over his head. He thought it might have been an early morning bird nestling above with her young, but when the wind seemed to whoosh all around him with the hot summer air, he covered his face in defense, unable to protect himself without his trusty golf clubs. When he realized that he was in no immediate danger as the wind seemed to turn into a presence, he slowly uncovered his face, seeing a petite, brown-haired woman in front of him.

"Well, hello there, Doll," Hawkeye muttered, turning his charm on (as well as his best smile). "Where did you from?"

The woman was not amused and showed it on her face. Lines of dissent began to cover her young face, wrinkling it.

"Hey, I'm only a lonely bachelor, looking for some company," Hawkeye purred, rubbing his raven head on the woman's shoulder with some affection. "Care to join me for a picnic? Granted, I don't have much food on me, but there's always breakfast at the –"

"Where's Manfred Schneider?" the woman growled, pushing Hawkeye away as she drew her gun on him. "And what did you do with Claus Schultz?"

"Wow, lady, I don't know what you're talking about," Hawkeye protested loudly, putting his hands up in surrender as he turned serious. "I don't know who this –"

"Where is Sergeant Aaron Church?" the woman then asked slowly, exasperated as she made circles with her gun barrel. "The two names are one and the same person. Come on, Captain. I know that you know. You've been following the leads for a couple of days now. You know who the players are and what they've been doing. Now, tell me before I blow your brains out: where…is…Sergeant Church?!"

"Well, I don't know…at camp, I guess. Why are you asking?"

The woman sighed, forgetting momentarily about Claus Schultz, as she aimed for the temple, aggravated with Hawkeye's game of stupid, as she viewed it. "Listen, I don't have time to fool around here. Come with me."

"Now?" Hawkeye looked around him. "Now and at a time like this?"

"Yes, come now, or the last thing you'll remember me shooting at you." The woman was angry, her face turning into a shade of red Hawkeye didn't know existed with any woman. "Now, get moving, Captain, or you'll regret it."

"You know, I think I left my better half in my spare Army jacket," Hawkeye started as the woman grabbed him brutally by the collar and started dragging him away, slowly edging her hand up to his ear for maximum effort. "This one hasn't seen any –"

"Oh, shut up, will you?!" The woman sighed again, dragging Hawkeye across the woods.

~00~

BJ suddenly woke up with a start and then fell back asleep, aware that there was an empty space next to him. Half asleep and still dreaming of home, he thought that Peg had gotten up to feed Erin and would be back soon, smelling like milk and baby spit-up. Smiling, he snuggled right back into his pillow, reaching for the other side of the bed, until he heard some loud snoring.

Immediately, he woke up completely. BJ then looked around, realizing that he wasn't home in San Francisco, but in a sleazy Tokyo hotel, where he had been staying for almost a day now. He wasn't the loving husband and parent at home, but he was a doctor on the run at war, trying to liberate his campmates and his name. He wasn't a free man, but one accused of conspiracy and murder.

_Dammit…could this day get any worse?_

Rubbing his eyes and tugging at his moustache nostalgically, BJ almost got up and walked out of the room, but stopped himself from getting into the colder air. Instead, he listened to Charles' snoring, full of rhyme and soothing, in a fashion. Then, he watched as the light breeze from the open window billowed Klinger's nightgown open, a sure sign that all was well, even if his hairy legs were raised by goosebumps. The same wind was even caressing Kellye's dark hair as she slept peacefully, perhaps for the first time in days now. Hawkeye _was_ sleeping on the other side of the bed…

_And Hawkeye…wait, where is Hawkeye?_

The other side of the bed, BJ noticed as reality and not his dream set it, was empty. Hawkeye was gone.


	25. Once Upon a Time

It was ten minutes after Wilhelm had sent Lucy and his other men on when he finally caught the brown-headed woman's shadow heading his way. With three others around her and more behind her in the trees, Wilhelm was assured of her safety, but was not happy to see another man being dragged into his circle. And the man was being dragged by the ear, he could see it. Lucy was not letting this one go anywhere.

_And if he had been a threat to begin with, Lucy would have taken him out. Why bring him back though? Why is this man so special?_

"Sir, look what we found," Lucy almost proudly exclaimed, letting the man in the green uniform drop to his knees on the ground. "He was standing at the place where Claus was supposed to convene with us."

"Doing what?" Wilhelm asked, speaking as if Hawkeye was not listening to the conversation.

"Just standing there," Lucy replied as Hawkeye stood up once more. "I don't know what his true intentions are, but we'll find out soon enough, I'm sure."

"Well, that's all, folks," Hawkeye muttered sarcastically.

"What was that, Captain?" Wilhelm growled at Hawkeye, seeing, just as Lucy did, the captain's bars of the US Army.

"Oh, nothing out of the ordinary," Hawkeye answered, still in jokester mode, the first time since the whole affair started. "Just a little something to carry the blues away. And a one and a two and a…"

When Hawkeye tried to inanely sing a song to change the topic, Wilhelm slapped him lightly in the back of head. "Enough of this, will you? Tell us why you're here or you will face the consequences. The CIA doesn't do anyone any favors. You're one of them that we tend to ignore."

Hawkeye then grinned, but fear kept gripping his heart. "Oh, so you're one of _those_ guys? Fancy I ran into you. I was wondering where everyone from the cocktail party went to. Have that bottle of red wine that went missing?"

Slapping his own forehead with disgust, Wilhelm turned to Lucy. "Has he been like this since you've captured him?"

"You have no idea," Lucy mumbled in a growl, wanting to slap Hawkeye's head for being so annoying (to them, as least) again. "Ask one of the men if you don't believe me."

"Hey, why the long faces?" Hawkeye exclaimed with false glee. "I've got some –"

"Listen, Captain, and listen good," Wilhelm interrupted as he grabbed Hawkeye's collar and brought him to his knees. "You've been discovered on our turf. Get out of here while you still can. If not, you can face the consequences."

"Geez, I didn't know the neighborhood was so rough." Hawkeye brushed Wilhelm off of his shoulder, as if imaginary dirt stood there, and groaned. "You bullies don't know how to take a hit."

"And you don't know when to shut it!" Lucy retorted.

Wilhelm, tiring of one strategy, looked at Lucy with new eyes, exchanging a glance with her that made her raise an eyebrow, one that confused even Hawkeye. Then, when he silently motioned her to one side and walked a ways with her, he whispered in her ear. A furious conversation followed. Finally, after Hawkeye strained his ears and tried to listen in (curious at last), the two finished their conversation and turned back to him.

"Captain, do you know anything about Major Floyd?" Wilhelm asked gently, almost as if the light beating from earlier had not happened.

"Know? Do I ever!" Hawkeye laughed mechanically, trying to lighten the mood, even though the name itself sent shivers down his spine. "He was the one who –"

"We don't need a life story, Captain," Lucy interrupted. "We need an answer. Do you know him?"

Hawkeye looked from Wilhelm to Lucy and gulped audibly. "Well, I guess you can say that I know _of_ him. Why?"

Lucy's deep eyes then sucked Hawkeye right into a story, one that she was willing to tell, one that was about to change the course of the murder mystery. And right behind her, Wilhelm was supplying the rest of the tale. It was a sordid past of a family, of course, but there was always the connection from there and here, dots that trailed all the way to Nurse Winifred Curtis and the man who named himself Sergeant Aaron Church, but was a man named Manfred Schneider. And of course, right in the middle of the mess, ignorant of the past, was Major Margaret Houlihan.

~00~

Major Floyd, sitting in his quarters that morning, glanced occasionally at his reports and some random files from here and there, but mostly, he sipped at what they passed off and called coffee in the camp. His cigar smoldering in the ashtray besides his elbow, he thought of the next step in his plan. Of course, it involved telling his story to a little rat in the camp, but with the liability of that person, he needed to make a clean move before someone said something to the wrong person.

And that wrong person was already hot on his tail. By the way Colonel Potter was giving him looks (and the way his company clerk roamed the camp freely and with the prisoners), Floyd was already becoming more cautious. He also had a clue as to what person snooped around and took a peek into his personal files and he didn't like it already.

That little rat, Corporal Walter "Radar" O'Reilly, had to go. Floyd was sure of it. He couldn't get rid of the priest, but the most precious commodity of any camp can be used to his advantage.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Floyd took his cigar out of the ashtray and smoked some from it, but put it out when he called for the person to come in.

"You wanted to see me, Sir?" The clerk named "Radar" entered slowly as he was called in, shutting out the hot air behind him. "Colonel Potter said you needed something and that I needed to get you that something that you needed."

"Well, I need more from you, Corporal," Floyd admitted, cracking his knuckles loudly, so much so that it startled Radar. "In fact, I think I need more from you than you really think. And you better pay attention, for your life depends on this one."

Shadows appeared outside of Floyd's door, suddenly blocking any way out of the tent. It made Radar nervous, but he had everything to lose if he let Floyd in on the secrets he shared with Colonel Potter. He had to make Floyd think him stupid, not an accomplice in everything done in the camp.

"You see, Corporal," Floyd continued, hiding his hands into his uniform pants pocket, "I have no fondness for people who like to whisper in others' ears about business that doesn't concern them."

"What do you mean?" Radar was gingerly stepping into innocence once more, something Colonel Potter had told him to play up to…and to play up well.

"Corporal, there's always a beginning to every story and this one began long ago, way before you were born most likely." Floyd sat back, smiling like a predator cornering his prey. "Let's see…oh, yes, as you would like to hear, once upon a time…there once was a military man who went to war, a man named Colonel Leonard Ploid. He left behind the perfect family when he went to Europe, a wife who adored him and five children who idolized him."

"Gee, that's swell!" Radar interrupted in what seemed to be the beginning of a story.

"Well, it would have been, had not this Colonel Ploid ran across a man who went AWOL, a man named Sergeant William Curtis, a man from his unit. Now, the man was already suspected of dealing with the Germans, but when Ploid saw that it was for real, he went to report it. However, someone had gotten there first and someone was already pointing the finger at him. That man accusing him was Al Houlihan, who had a little informant somewhere. Now, Houlihan was an up-and-coming military man who had looked to his booze first, himself second and his men third.

"Despite doing time in the stockade for leaving without authorization, Sergeant William Curtis left the Army and went back to his life of crime. However, Colonel Ploid – the man who wanted to do some good in his life, especially for his wife and children – was accused of sabotage and treason. And all the evidence they had, other than being accused, was a note for Agent H21 coming for him. It was a message meant for Curtis, for sure, but it broke another man. What was worse was that it was Curtis that accused Ploid and he was backed up by Houlihan. It was shameful for an innocent man to be led into chains, all in front of his family, towards the end of a war, when victory was sure and the war was won.

"Years passed, Corporal…long, hard years. As you've probably figured out, Ploid died alone and his family changed their names and moved away from all the attention they've received for being related to a man accused of treason to the United States. In all of those years, nobody noticed the underbelly of that bitterness and pain, of being close to that man, seeing him behind bars and watching as those tears killed whatever pride he had left inside of him."

"Major, I'm sorry I wasn't ready for this bedtime story and didn't have my bear with me, but I have to –" Radar began.

"Shut up, you little miscreant!" Floyd suddenly yelled, standing up and pulling a gun out of his pocket. "Get out. Get out of my sight before I decide to shoot you now. However, Corporal, you better be back in my sight after dinner. We still have business to conduct. If you're not here with my men at the appointed hour, just before I leave tonight, by God I'll kill you in front of everyone and make sure you bleed to death. Go!"

Shaking, Radar turned and left. As if by rote, the men outside the door opened it for him and watched him leave, seeing that he was trying to make himself invisible. Gaines and Pyle, who used to watch Margaret and were assigned lighter duties with Radar now, eyed the clerk with little suspicion. However, both stopped letting their thoughts run through his facial expression when they saw Floyd pop his head out.

"Gaines, Pyle, watch him. Bring him back to me at dinnertime. Make sure to give him some hope before bringing him back in." Floyd smiled at them, as if he knew something that the two did not. "Actually, on second thought, make sure he _comes_ here before dinner. I don't want a bigger mess to clean up, especially after seeing what food this place has."

"Yes, Sir," Pyle said quietly, looking for Gaines for a better plan, one that help the camp instead of hindering them.

"You can count on us, Sir," Gaines only added quietly, staring down the lane where Radar had disappeared off to.


	26. The Murderer

**Yes, I am back! I'm sorry about not updating this story sooner. However, I did redo all of the other chapters. They have been updated, edited and clarified (for my sanity and yours). The story is now winding down, so you all will find out who the murderer is. And the murderer is...**

* * *

Kellye was remotely worried when she woke up from a dreamless sleep, finding out that Hawkeye had vanished and without notifying anyone. Granted, the Swampman had pulled of tricks like that before, especially when he needed time alone to drink, but BJ seemed a little more worried than most, especially just hours after they had found Hawkeye and Klinger and he was hit in the head with a frying pan.

"What if he's lost?" BJ asked, practically biting into his fingernails as he kept opening and shutting the room door. "What if Major Floyd's men found him?"

"Hunnicutt, you're worried over a man who lost his hold on the leash?" Charles asked him incredulously. "Are you _insane_ to even _think_ of Pierce of being caught? Why, he's a master of tricks, remember. He's been avoiding the men for quite some time now and just recently, he escaped with Klinger's help."

"You have no idea…" Klinger moaned from his side of the bed.

"And someone is bound to find his collar tags _some_ time," Charles then added with some poise.

"I agree with Captain Hunnicutt, Major," Kellye said. "Hawkeye has been known to disappear like this, but not being here is a little worrisome."

"We should go after him," BJ declared.

"No," Klinger said, getting up. "We shouldn't, Captain. Not unless we have a plan that would work. Not unless we figure out what Captain Pierce has been up to. I mean…shouldn't we?"

"I think the Lebanese twit has a point," Charles conceded.

"I say we should wait two hours before thinking about Hawkeye or ourselves," Kellye added.

BJ regarded his campmates with some contempt. He was frustrated that Hawkeye was not around and had somehow disappeared just after hitting him in the head with a frying pan. Still, they all were right. Hawkeye had been known to run off on occasion, when the timing was right, and had always found back some answers, either for himself or for others. And the answers he came back with were usually right for him and for all involved, even if it was a little whacked.

"All right, I give," BJ said. "Two hours, and nothing more. Afterward, if he's not here, we think of another plan and get moving. I don't want to be in this hotel tonight."

"I volunteer to find another hotel if Captain Pierce doesn't show up," Klinger automatically said, awake at last.

"And let you get lost and back to Toledo?" Kellye asked him. "I don't think so! We work together and we stay together."

"Right," BJ said, walking to the hotel window. "Just two more hours of this and we can work together on the next part of the plan."

~00~

After being let loose by Lucy and Wilhelm with the story and evidence to boot, Hawkeye ran as fast as he could back to the hotel, an envelope of papers and pictures in his hands that he had to wait for before leaving. He checked them before leaving Lucy and Wilhelm's capable hands, but not without telling them what had conspired, from the time Nurse Curtis had come to the 4077th until that hour he was captured by Lucy. Without leaving anything out, the CIA members quietly let him go, allowing him the evidence to blackened a name an rescue a camp.

Hawkeye, running without stopping, then passed the Rose Petal Hotel's door without considering other customers coming in and out and most certainly did not bother to ask Daichi how he was doing on the fine, sunny summer morning. Instead, he ran up the stairs to his room. He had to tell everyone what was going on and show the proof they needed to be exonerated. From there, they can all think of a plan to get back to Korea and back to normal.

_If hell was normal to begin with._

BJ, of course, did not have to wait long before the door banged open, revealing Hawkeye, flashing a large yellow envelope in his hands.

"I got it!" Hawkeye yelled, laughing. "I got us back on the track to innocence!"

"Pierce, what _are_ you talking about?" Charles asked, startled by the noise.

"Oh, no, we're not going through that again!" Hawkeye continued to laugh hysterically. "Not those questions! Ha, ha!"

"Hawk, care to enlighten us as to where you were and what happened?" BJ asked him in an irritated tone.

Kellye looked up to Hawkeye from her position on the bed. "Yeah, Hawkeye, let us know what's going on. I'd like to get back to Korea as soon as possible, believe it or not."

"Really?" Klinger asked Kellye, the former still in curlers and a nightgown. "I was rather enjoying our outing here in Tokyo."

"Enough of this!" Charles yelled. "All right, Pierce, let it out. Who is the murderer and why are we now so innocent?"

"Because, Charles and company," Hawkeye replied, "Claus Schultz's friends met with me at the park, quite by accident, I can assure you. And they practically handed me the evidence!"

"And you went out there _why_?!" BJ asked.

"I don't know. To find myself?" Hawkeye laughed again. "Well, listen up boys and girls, because this story is going to get a little rocky."

Charles found a chair in the corner and sat down, tipping himself back by its hind legs. "Entertain us, Pierce. And make it quick. We need to leave soon."

"Ok, ok, Winifred Curtis' politics, assassination attempts and spying aside…this is all about revenge," Hawkeye said seriously. "Back during the Great War, as we know, the Curtis' father accused one guy named Leonard Ploid of treason with his H21 note. Now, the guy Curtis reported it to was none other than Al Houlihan, Margaret's father!"

"You're kidding me, right?" Klinger looked incredulous.

"I wish he was joking," Kellye commented, seeing the seriousness on Hawkeye's face.

"Well, now, boys and girls, here's where it gets sticky. Curtis was put away for desertion and was set free eventually, but Ploid was sentenced to life imprisonment, with his family having visitation rights. It was humiliating, so the family changed its name and moved away. Leonard Ploid died in prison in 1929 by hanging. It was considered a suicide. Al Houlihan gets promoted for detecting treason and gets reassigned, married and having kids etc., etc.

"In the meantime, Mrs. Ploid and the kids change their name to Floyd, which rhymed with their original name, but also made them more normal. I mean, what family likes to have their faces and names in the newspaper, right? I mean, wouldn't you all like it?"

"I beg to differ, Pierce, but go one," Charles said, seeing the dots connecting finally.

"Yeah, and one of the sons of this Ploid guy went into the Army. Nobody really knew what happened to his father, but there was a nice entry in his personnel file about it." Here, Hawkeye pulled out some of the contents of the envelope and passed them around, the pictures of a personnel file. "Now, this file is none other than our very own Major Floyd."

BJ almost dropped some of the pictures. "Are you serious?"

"No, I am not, Beej. See for yourself."

"Yeah, I can see it, Hawk, but it's too simple to be true. I mean, how did Major Floyd get through to frame us and Margaret?"

"All in good time, Beej, all in good time," Hawkeye exclaimed eagerly. "Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Now, Claus mentioned that a General Hannibal of this Nazi organization thing helped Major Floyd in achieving what he wanted. That is true, in a way, but Hannibal did not anticipate one of his own agents being killed. In return for the resources needed to frame Margaret and the 4077th, Floyd was told to bring in some information regarding our positions in West Germany, not East Germany, where the Communists are. The information was not given to Hannibal though. He was double-crossed. So, now Floyd is being hunted down by Hannibal and his men, as well as the CIA, who are also getting Hannibal and his people. Under the orders on Colonel Flagg, they can't touch Floyd until he's arrested for something, like treason and conspiracy. Then, they would take him in their own custody."

"How did Nurse Curtis get to the 4077th though?" Kellye asked.

"Through Floyd," Hawkeye confirmed, reaching into the envelope again and handing out the copies of her transfer papers. "They were signed by not only Floyd, but also her sister. Gale Curtis, however, had no idea that her sister was going to be killed. She innocently signed her sister away to war, not murder. And Hannibal did not know either. He thought Curtis was just a tool to get Margaret into some trouble."

"He did everything on purpose," BJ stated plainly.

"Yes, Floyd was a sneak," Hawkeye confirmed. "But this is not the end of his troubles. He may have gotten his revenge, but we have the facts, ones that will bag him. Not to mention, Hannibal is not a kind man when he is cheated out of something."

"So, you're saying that, in revenge, Major Floyd got General Hannibal to assist him in getting Margaret and everyone here into trouble?" Klinger asked. "He got Hannibal to help in getting all his ducks in a row, to get all of us for simple revenge?"

"That's right." Hawkeye smiled insanely, then beaming.

"And it was Hannibal who helped Floyd get the position to condemn us all?"

"Yes."

"And steal Major Houlihan's gun, hair and fingerprints supposedly?"

"He did it all, Klinger."

"Captain Pierce...well, where does Sergeant Church fit into all of this?"

"He was a pawn who also did not expect to be killed off," Hawkeye revealed, taking out more photos and papers and showing them around. "Church was also a Nazi in the same organization named Manfred Schneider, who knew Nurse Curtis very well. Well enough, in fact, that he continuously went to Tokyo General before Winnie got the boot and competed with Claus for her attention. He won somehow, of course, and was transferred along with her to the 4077th."

"Where he was so brutally murdered afterward," Charles chimed in.

"By none other than Major Floyd," Kellye finished.

"That's right!" Hawkeye was so pleased that he soon dumped all of the rest of the evidence on the nearest bed. "Now, I have a phone call to make while you go through this."

"What? Why?" BJ asked, the first words he spoke for a while now. "Who do you need to call?"

"Why, the 4077th, if we get our cards right," Hawkeye replied calmly.

Questions soon popped out of BJ, Klinger and Kellye's mouths, but Charles sat there calmly, drumming his fingers against the other. He, of all the people there, knew exactly what Hawkeye was up to. And if they had enough sympathetic people at the camp, and he was sure that the guards there were one of them, then they had a chance to have Floyd arrested himself. The camp in an uproar would surely help, Army regulations or not.

"What do you mean, call home in Korea?" Klinger asked as soon as the outrage calmed down. "They'll track you here!"

"Like I said, not if we play our cards right," Hawkeye said with confidence. "I'm sure Radar is still there. And there's bound to be some people there who might help him and us."

"I sure hope you're right, Captain," Kellye said, afraid suddenly of the cold cell that was surely awaiting them when they were captured. "I surely hope that you're right this time."


	27. Unexpected Assistance

After his conversation with Major Floyd, Radar was intent on forgetting what he heard, had it not been for Colonel Potter and his want of information. After quickly relaying what he had overheard the major tell him, the colonel did not seem all that interested anymore. He rubbed his chin forlornly and would not answer Radar anything, only waving a hand in dismissal after the story was finished. Then, and only then, did Radar hear the phone ring in the other room. It was relief almost, a return to normalcy, but it was better when he heard Hawkeye in his ears.

"Hawkeye, is that really you?" Radar hissed, knowing that anyone of Major Floyd's men might be around the corner. "Where are you?"

"Who else would it be?" Hawkeye sounded like he was laughing, but Radar could not tell. "Hey, listen, I need your help. I can't tell you where we are, but I'm hoping you can still help us here."

"Anything." Radar was adamant about forgetting about Floyd and even Colonel Potter somewhat. "What do you need?"

"Get us back here somehow. We have the evidence to set everyone free and get Major Floyd in the stockade."

"Gee willikers!" Radar yelled happily without thinking. "Are you pulling my leg, Hawkeye?"

"Is that Pierce?!" Colonel Potter called out from his office, excited at long last, with some hope in his heart. "YA-HOO!"

"Oh, geez, Colonel, you'll get us –"

"I don't care, give me that phone, Son." Colonel Potter ran from his office and immediately took the phone out of Radar's hands. "Pierce, is that really you? Tell me! What's happening on your end? Do you have something?"

"Well, Colonel, it's a long story, but I'm sure you and Radar are sure to get Major Floyd involved a little too early if you don't quiet it down," Hawkeye remarked, a little annoyed. "Look, Colonel, I don't have much time. We somehow need to get this paperwork to someone over Floyd's head."

"What paperwork?" Potter was confused.

"This paperwork that the CIA gave me," Hawkeye replied casually, as if it was everyday someone had paper from the agency. "It's proof that Floyd was the killer of both Winifred Curtis and Aaron Church. There's also something in here about him framing Margaret because her father turned his in for something called treason."

"Now, how in blazes did those cowboys get a hold of that horse? We knew some of that, but there was nothing in there that we could have knocked out the good major himself."

"Well, I would guess that the CIA was looking into him, as well as that Nazi organization that everyone was in on, but that would assume too much. What do you think though, Colonel? How do we get this to you or someone higher up?"

"Colonel, Sir, can you please send me back here when this is all over?" Klinger interjected before Hawkeye took the phone away from him. "I love Tokyo!"

"Pierce, you tell that Lebanese lady that he can have all the damned time he pleases when he is cleared of all charges," Colonel Potter exclaimed, yelling too loudly that Major Floyd's men soon found a reason to investigate what was going on, just as they were ordered to take Radar in later that day.

Suddenly, the door opened and Radar and Colonel Potter soon found the end of two guns in their faces. Dropping the phone slowly when silently motioned to, the two stood up as the guns followed their every move. Their hands also went up in the air.

"Colonel, are you ok over there?" Hawkeye's worried voice yelled. "Are you there?"

"Sir, what's going on?" Kellye was heard to say.

One of the guards, Pyle, put his gun down and picked up the phone. "Captain Pierce, you are one wanted man. Where are the others?"

Hawkeye was silent on the other end.

"Listen to me and listen to me carefully," Pyle said. "My name is Sergeant Hank Pyle. I know who you are and probably where you are, all in thanks to Wright and Wellington. They might be able to catch you and haul your ass in once this line is traced back to your hotel or whatever, but I'm sure that me and Sergeant Gaines here can help you along the way."

"Son, he's not on the other line anymore," Colonel Potter tried, but was soon quiet when Gaines put his gun closer to Radar's face.

"Now, are you willing to hear me out?" Pyle continued. "My uncle is General John Q. Pyle, US Army. He's up at the front lines, always willing to lend a hand and see that justice is served, especially where Major Floyd is concerned. He's been watching the major for years now, knowing what happened to his father. He sent me and Gaines down here to look into what happened and to report back to him. We've got nothing but two murders with two bodies that haven't been sent out yet. Now, you let us have you and we can settle this out, once and for all. If you have anything that can nail Floyd to a wall, let it out now."

Hawkeye continued his silence, scared of what to do next. He was afraid of letting them know where they were, but at the same time, his words were almost a dream come true for him and the others. The question was whether to trust him or not and whether his relations were what they needed or not. Hawkeye could not make this decision out on his own, knowing that his precious cargo – campmates and evidence combined – weighed heavily on his shoulders already.

"Ok then, Captain, let's make a deal. If you want to trust me and Gaines, we'll give you five minutes. If we don't hear back from you through this phone, we'll know that you gave up. If we do, I have a plan that would get you here back to Korea and all of you innocent of all charges pending. The trials in Seoul, set for the day after tomorrow, will be cancelled."

Radar gulped audibly.

"Remember that we're going to be leaving with Major Houlihan and Father Mulcahy tonight," Pyle informed Hawkeye. "The others in the camp will follow suite, once Major Floyd gets those charges to stick. And once he does, there will be nowhere in the world you and the others can hide."

With that, the line went dead. Pyle then turned back to Colonel Potter and Radar, motioning that Gaines lower his gun with his hands. "I'm sorry, Sir, but we could not tell you until there was an open window. We were under orders from General Pyle, my uncle."

"I understand, Son," Colonel Potter replied, relaxing a little when he saw the truth in the younger man's eyes. "Now, I just hope that Pierce understands the same. Now, care to explain to this old man what is going on, hmm?"

~00~

Hawkeye stared at the phone for a long time before turning to the others.

"What happened, Pierce?" Charles asked tartly. "Cat finally got your tongue?"

"No, but I think we got our opportunity to return to Korea without the chains," Hawkeye replied, putting the phone back in its cradle. "We have five minutes to call back and give an answer and we have to make this quick."

"On what?" Kellye asked.

"Who's helping us now?" BJ then asked afterward.

"Believe it or not, it sounds like someone who is working under Major Floyd, but is looks to be dissatisfied and reporting on him," Hawkeye remarked. "Margaret and Father Mulcahy are going to Seoul tonight and awaiting trial there. We can accept some assistance from the Uijongbu sector or think of something else."

"I say, we need all the help we could have," Charles admitted, sitting up in his chair. "I mean, who did you talk to?"

The question unnerved BJ. "Who cares who he talked to? I say, let's do it."

"Me too," Klinger admitted. "Well, who did you talk to, Captain?"

"Sergeant Pyle?" Hawkeye wrinkled his forehead, trying to remember the name.

"Say, there's a general with the same name," Kellye said.

"Yeah, he said the general was his uncle." Hawkeye was quiet for a minute. "So, we are in or out?"

When there was a mutual silence, Klinger turned to Hawkeye. "Make the call, Sir," he said. "If this isn't what was expected, at least we all went down the ship together."


	28. Plans Progress

Pyle was pleased with himself. Not even five minutes later (about three minutes later, to be precise), Captain Pierce had called back. He himself had answered the phone, listening to the captain state that they would go along with the plan, but nothing more. They just needed the details and how to proceed back to Korea. Pyle, in turn, had the idea that they would be picked up by his and his uncle's people, all acting under Major Floyd, and would bring whatever they had with them, if any such evidence existed. And Sergeant Pyle was sure that those from the 4077th that had escaped had something that would condemn Major Floyd.

"What makes you think we have something that proves our innocence?" Hawkeye asked, confused, but also wary of what information he had and was willing to give up.

"Oh, we know your type," Pyle replied as Gaines snickered behind his hand. "You're extremely resourceful, Captain. We all had faith in you, even if Wellington and Wright are more than pissed with you right about now about how you have escaped time and again."

"Ok, so you want use to turn ourselves in?"

"Yes, but at a time and place where we can find you. Check out of the place you are now and head to the Lace Blossom Hotel downtown. It's busy, but it'll be a show to pick you up, just like what Major Floyd wanted. My uncle's men will get you back into Seoul, where you will be quartered with him and his staff until we can get to Major Houlihan and Father Mulcahy. We would either get them freed before their trip or during, before they are herded into a stockade in Seoul. Either way, my uncle will be able to find you innocent and set it right."

"How does Floyd fit into the picture? How do we know he won't get his hands in there?"

"Because his plan is to stay here and arrest more people before coming to Seoul to prosecute Major Houlihan and Father Mulcahy. He isn't too concerned about those two right now because he feels finished with them. He's concerned about the publicity he's going to be getting. I did hear that he was going to be interviewed for _Stars and Stripes._ Knowing him, it would be true."

Hawkeye shook his head. "And should I refer to anyone when someone asked where I got my information?"

"No, you don't need to. I think Uncle would know where you got it from."

After ten minutes of quieting re-explaining the plans again to make sure all was well, Pyle hung up with Hawkeye. Gaines, at the door watching out for Floyd, Wright and Wellington, whistled. While Pyle looked to him for a better plan than what they had, he still was worried that the protection of General Pyle would not be enough. Major Floyd's word carried as much weight as Senator McCarthy's did. Whatever a general might say might not stick.

_It's worth a shot though. Hank has never been wrong about something before._

Colonel Potter and Radar, though, looked at them both with amazement. "Gee whiz, how did you two become our heroes?" Radar asked the both of them.

Pyle looked to Gaines and vice versa, but none of them said a word.

Colonel Potter only put a reassuring hand on Radar's shoulder as they stood there. "I think, Son, that these men have been there from the beginning of this hunt."

Right," Gaines said, uncertainly in his voice. "We're not heroes though, Corporal. We're just people who investigate those in Army with a beef with someone else and a family history that would make people's toes curl."

"We already found out that Major Floyd was linked to Major Houlihan and her family," Colonel Potter said. "Why would he want to tell Radar his story?"

"He's got an eye on the company clerk," Gaines admitted. "And, quite honesty, if we're gonna save him, he needs to hide, Sir. Is there any way possible that he can leave the camp?"

Radar was amazed.

"Me?" he asked. "Why – why would Major Floyd want me?"

Colonel Potter stayed his hand on Radar's shoulder. "Radar…what he means is, Major Floyd wants you dead."

"Me? Oh, no, no no…no me!" Radar started to shake violently.

"Son, we don't know why he wants you dead now, but there has to be a reason."

"Probably because Floyd found out about his personnel file?" Pyle suggested.

"It is possible." Colonel Potter took his hand off of Radar's shoulder and walked around in a circle for a minute, rubbing his chin in deep thought. "To get to me is to get to Radar. Radar has been the person running around and getting what I needed."

"In this case, we might have to hide him in plain sight," Gaines guessed as the colonel continued his pacing.

"Why in plain sight?" Pyle asked him, this time confused himself.

"In plain sight, Major Floyd won't notice a thing," Gaines said. "If we have to bring him in before dinner, then we do, but there's always a way to avoid that. Colonel Potter here can pull rank, need him for some of his duties before dinner. Don't you do that anyway, Sir?"

"Sometimes," Potter admitted as he stopped his nervous circular pacing. "It's rare."

"Ok then. That should give us enough time to get Captain Pierce and the others back to Seoul and avoid that mess. It's about eleven hundred hours now. Major Floyd just saw the corporal here about half an hour ago. He's expected back into Major Floyd's office before dinner, which is about eighteen hundred hours. Am I right?"

"Yes, Sergeant. But how is seven hours going to get Pierce, Klinger and whoever else is missing back here to Korea in the nick of time?"

"A quick phone call, Sir," Gaines replied with a smile, nodding over to Pyle. "We can call ahead and get the phone to bring Pierce and the others back to Seoul. Major Floyd would surely want them held there for questioning and then the trial sure to come."

Suddenly, Gaines signaled to Pyle and then stepped aside at the door, allowing Sergeant Wellington to enter into the office. In an instant, both he and Pyle turned their faces into one of impassive guards, a mask that they needed to hold so that Wellington did not suspect a thing.

_And boy, does he have an idea that Gaines and I work for another group._ Pyle picked up his illegal weapon and motioned for Gaines to do the same.

"I need to use this phone, Colonel," Wellington only said to Colonel Potter, ignoring Gaines and Pyle for the time being. "There is urgent news from Tokyo that I need to clarify before handing it over to Major Floyd."

"My corporal can help you with the phone, Sergeant," Colonel Potter said kindly. "Who do you need to wire?"

"None of your business," Wellington sneered. "Just let me use the phone and get out of here."

Potter took the snide remark passively, not wanting to pull his own rank and reprimand the sergeant in front of others. There would be a time and a place for that later, when his – as well as Major Floyd's – due was paid. And Potter was sure that it would be soon before Floyd, Wright and Wellington would be either behind bars, reassigned someplace or give a good scolding for what they had done to his camp.

_Come back soon, Pierce!_ Potter almost prayed as he and Radar back into his own office. _We need you and those damned papers you seem to have!_

~00~

About fifteen minutes later, Wellington reported to Floyd about the escape of Pierce and Klinger. In turn, Floyd only smiled. He took the news calmly enough, Wellington thought, and had only asked if Gaines and Pyle were taking care of the situation with Corporal O'Reilly and what they had done about it yet.

"I would have thought they had tailed him," Wellington commented. "They were hanging around the office and acting a little more than friendly, I'd think."

"You think they have heard the orders correctly and would bring the corporal to me tonight?"

"If not, you know I would, Sir."

Floyd then waved Wellington a casual dismissal. "And don't come back until you've heard news about those two getting captured again. I want them out of Tokyo before the sun goes off and sets tonight or I'll have your head and Wright's on a silver platter. You two were supposed to be in charge of silencing those two. You two seem to have run into vendors, nurses and tricks and still could not find them until they fell right into our little trap in the park, one which I had set up."

Floyd snorted and then continued. "Claus Schultz was a stupid man to think that we would not find him and know that he was with Pierce and Klinger."

"We had them though, Sir!" Wellington protested, ignoring the notice to leave the tent. "They were in the maximum security section of the prison in Tokyo. There could not have been a way for them to escape!"

"Then, why did they?" Floyd's tone of voice turned harsh. "How did a cross-dressing man and a drunk doctor get passed some of the best men in Japan and escape down the road? And where did they do afterward?"

"I – I – I don't know, Sir," Wellington replied in a stutter. "But we will find out! I'll call some men in Tokyo, some of your best men, and get them on the track."

"They should have been when they escaped."

"Yes, Sir, I know, Sir, but we have been searching the grounds to see if they got far."

"It's obvious that they didn't, Sergeant. Now, get back on that phone and get those men back to the hotel they were in, the park where they captured him or any other place in Tokyo. And call Seoul first, so they can call Tokyo. I'm through with those channels. Get us the better ones."

Wellington noticed that Floyd's tone of voice turned from harsh to cold. "Yes, Sir. I'll call Seoul and they'll get in contact with Tokyo again."

Floyd waved his hand in another dismissal. "Actually, you know, get Pyle and Gaines on the assignment, Wellington. They seem to be more competent than you and Wright at this point. Not to mention, it can prove their loyalty to me, stupid as the two of them are."

Upon hearing this, Wellington fumed silently, but obeyed the order nonetheless. He reached for the door and, without another word or salute to Floyd, he left the visitors' tent and headed back to the office. On the way there, he thought of getting Wright and spying on Pyle and Gaines, who were getting so close to Colonel Potter and his clerk, but thought better of it.

_We'll find a way to sack those two. I'm sure of it._


	29. In Fear and Faith

Hawkeye and the others wasted no time in packing their meager belongings and checking out of their hotel to go downtown to the next one. Save for Klinger pulling out his curlers and taking twenty minutes to brush out what was left of his hair, the five of them ran out of the door and hailed for a few bicyclists. Achieving to get three of them and using up almost what was left of their money, the five jumped in and directed their drivers to the next hotel.

It had been an hour since the call from Pyle. It was about noon in Tokyo. They had a few precious hours left to rescue the camp and all five knew it.

Kellye, who was sitting next to Hawkeye in the first carriage, was nervous still. "Are you sure this is such a good idea?" she asked him, doubt lining her voice as she thought of worse things. "I mean, we don't know these people and this seems too good to be true. We might be falling into Major Floyd's hands."

"What choice do we have, Madam?" Hawkeye asked her in return (mocking _Gone with the Wind_ at the same time), patting the envelope he held in his jacket closely. "Frankly, my dear, I still don't give a damn, but I don't see another way there and out of this right mess."

"I don't either, which is what is making me so jittery. I mean, we could have given ourselves in and hoped for the best instead of playacting it."

"And let them have these papers? I don't think so!"

Kellye was quiet for a moment before speaking again. "Captain, aren't you afraid?"

"Afraid? What do you mean, Madam? What is this 'afraid' thing you are speaking of?"

"Well, aren't you scared of these people? Or even the war? From the beginning, you just seemed determined to get to the bottom of the mystery. Now, you have and it's not much of one, if you think about it and dug in the right places. And, if you also look a little further, you seem to find people more vicious than what we are supposed to be fighting against at this time. This last week, in general, has been the most exciting, although the most frightening, of my life. I don't know about you, but being accused of the murder of a spy, going to Tokyo and getting the camp rescued is about all that I can take right now. Getting back to nursing is what I am looking forward to right now. Better yet, going back home would be nicer."

Crabapple Cove's sea breezes almost sounded in Hawkeye's ears, but he stilled them. Instead, he only smiled his famous grin.

"This has been a little more than unusual, I'll tell you," he admitted.

"But wouldn't you like to get back to normal, back to work?" Kellye asked Hawkeye, soon seeing him turn very serious.

"I honestly don't know. I don't know what the lesser of two evils would be. Both involve war, death and revenge. At least bringing justice to one would be worth my while."

"Would you say, then, that you like Major Houlihan?"

"As a friend always," Hawkeye quickly said, but it was too quickly, even for him.

Kellye only nodded, knowing the truth, and turned around to see Charles and BJ in the carriage behind them. She observed that both were not speaking to each other, but had appeared to have gotten into an argument just recently (which might have explained their silent treatment of the other). Although she had heard nothing from her end, Kellye was sure that the two had somehow wordlessly fought over something silly, as they normally did, and had chosen to not talk to each other for a while.

_At least, until we get to the next hotel and then get back to Korea._

Fear, at least, did not seem to be on their minds like hers was. Believing that they might have traveled into a false sense of security would not get out of Kellye's mind. Nor did the image of being tied up with blacks bags over their heads help her ease herself either. There seemed to be too many possibilities for this plan to go wrong and wrong fast.

Kellye shook her head, looking past BJ and Charles to the last carriage, where Klinger was. Grooming himself on front of a hand mirror held by shaking knees, Klinger continued to brush his hair and put his makeup on. He also adjusted his summer dress of the day (pink with a lace collar and matching hat and parasol) and put more cotton balls into his bra as he looked himself over in the mirror. Or, more accurately, soft balls of what looked like cotton to Kellye.

_Oh, this won't end. Come what may, life might never be the same again. We could go back to our ordinary lives, back to work, and still remember these events. If we fail, though, we'll be in a place that we could never imagine, beyond our wildest dreams._

The nurse gulped, but not loud enough for Hawkeye to hear her. Done with her observations, she faced forward and stared out into the busy streets of Tokyo, which grew more dense as they passed block after block. She intended to forget her own nightmares, but it seemed just too easy to get lost into the colors and noises that dominated what Hawkeye called "The Pearl of the Orient".

~00~

That next morning seemed the same for Margaret, just like the rest of them, those days when she was in captivity. She woke up around eleven after having spent most of the night awake (not to mention, having given more time to sleep), stretched her arms and legs, and sat down for what seemed to be another endless day. However, this late morning, when she awoke, she realized that she had less room to play with. When she turned her head, she saw Father Mulcahy, sitting with his head bowed and his hands folded perfectly, as if it took more effort with the chains they possessed on them.

_Why, he's praying!_

The revelation of it hit her hard. She, too, had prayed to God for help, but that had only brought worse things, much worse than the enemy coming to charge them and going mobile with so many wounded. She had thought of abandoning the notion of praying, even before Father Mulcahy had come to share her quarters with her, but with so much more going on, asking for help from above did not seem like such a bad idea. After one, believing in something that can help gave Margaret some hope of survival – to her life, career and reputation.

Margaret then watched Father Mulcahy for a while, even quietly praying along with him when his lips moved and she could decipher what he was saying and can follow along. Finally, when he crossed himself, he noticed Margaret sitting there foolishly almost, staring at him with open lips in prayer.

"Why, Major Houlihan, what a lovely day this is!" Father Mulcahy seemed cheerful, even though he showed the signs of his short captivity and ordeals. Dark circles rounded his eyes and his blonde hair was turning a little white from the stress. "It seemed to be a little cooler now, don't you think?"

Margaret was appalled by his optimism and showed it. "Father, how could you say something like that? We're stuck in here, unable to defend ourselves, and are going to Seoul this evening. And all you talk about is what a lovely day this is and how much cooler it is!"

"Major, I don't think you quite understand. We are living another day and have not died. In addition, even though others may think we are guilty of crimes we did not commit, there are those above us who know the truth. And that's all that matters to me, should matter to _all_ of us."

"But our lives will be ruined!"

"And our Earthly torments will be relieved somehow. It only takes a little faith to know that, even if we spent the rest of our lives in torture, our heavenly one will no longer be a burden on our souls. Major, don't you have faith in God and His wondrous ways?"

"Well – I thought I did, but things are bad, Father." Margaret would not admit much and said the obvious, but she had the feeling that Father Mulcahy might have known more than she was leading on and was not going to show it, even if he doubted a lot of things lately too.

Well, not yet, anyway. Father Mulcahy always knew more than he led on and Margaret had some sneaky suspicion that he even knew who had done what to her in the past, even if she could not prove it. However, now was not the time to demand who had changed the color of her hair dye or put spam in her hat. Now was the time for faith.

"But you cannot lose faith, even when there is no hope," Father Mulcahy said gently, hiding his own misgivings. "Besides, Major, don't you have faith in Hawkeye?"

Margaret snorted, to keep her true feelings at bay. "Him? Really, Father?"

"Yes, Major, I am talking about the same man who would stop at nothing to keep this camp safe and sound."

"Are we talking about the same man who would tear down my tent during a date or even put pudding in my pillow?"

"Well, you must admit, Hawkeye has been a genius with pranks and silliness," Father Mulcahy admitted himself. "However, that same determination has also left hundreds, if not thousands already, of wounded people – soldiers, civilians, children and enemies – alive as well, even when people had left them for dead. Maybe, with the so little faith that you have, you can put your problems with God? I'm sure He's helping Hawkeye along."

Margaret sank in her seat, silent as the door opened unexpectedly and Corporal Wright arrived with their meals. "One more meal," he said to himself as Margaret and Father Mulcahy strained their ears to listen to his words. "One more meal and we're going back to Seoul. I can't wait."

As Corporal Wright left, Margaret turned back to Father Mulcahy, smiling as if the words she heard were the greatest news ever. "Maybe you're right, Father. I should have more faith. We have until tonight. Hawkeye must be closer to getting us freed, right? I mean, I haven't heard otherwise that he's been captured and stayed someplace more permanent."

Father Mulcahy put a hand on Margaret's cold shoulder. "That's right, Major. Now, let's thank God for this meal and wait for some news, shall we?"


	30. Arrested!

**Yes, you're reading your emails right. There are two brand new chapters! Obviously make sure you have read the previous chapter, the last fill-in chapter for a bit (I know Gmail will show one email for several chapters, so be careful). The action is starting to heat up and the end is near, I am regretting to say. While I enjoyed writing this story, I have to say how relieved I am that it is almost finished and the mystery almost solved. Hang in there, everyone! And many thanks to those who have supported me from the beginning. You know who you are. :)**

* * *

As the bicyclists drove downtown through Tokyo, Hawkeye noticed how crowded the streets had gotten. It wasn't just civilians who were roaming the streets on the hot summer day, but also MP's with guns. And all of them seemed to have come from Korea and appeared not to be local, and they seemed to be looking especially for them, he noticed, as some of them pointed to their carriages. A long line of them even pushed the civilians off of the sidewalks and whipped out orders concerning the capture and arrest of some Army doctors, an orderly and a nurse. It went on for several blocks, but it was worse as they reached their hotel.

"Looks like we have a welcome committee already," Hawkeye said to Kellye as the driver slowed down. To the driver, he added, "Make it hasty. We don't want to keep the men waiting."

"Are you sure they're not Major Floyd's men?" Kellye asked as one the MP's spotted them and started issuing new orders to his men.

"I'm sure." Hawkeye raised his arms in greeting as he stood up to show himself off. "Hey, over here, you guys!"

"Hawk, are you insane?" BJ yelled from his carriage as he, too, stood up. "Get down from there!"

Klinger then stood up from the back carriage, blowing kisses and lifting up his dress to at least his knees. "Hey, all you wonderful people out there!"

Charles only put his head into his hands and shook it with shame. He was not shocked, to say the least, but agreed with BJ. They did not know that these people were on their side, but at the very least, they could have acted the part of compliant prisoners and talked later, when most people were out of earshot.

Hawkeye only nodded to the people (and especially the MP's) in the streets and stepped down from his carriage, nodding to Klinger to do the same. As the other complied, picking up their luggage and dropping his dress line down (as well as the tip to his driver), MP's surrounded them. Soon, more of them gathered around the three carriages that were soon upon the Lace Blossom Hotel. Charles, realizing what was happening, stood up with BJ and raised his hands in surrender. All the others did the same as the bicyclists stopped.

Kellye, the only one still sitting, whispered to Hawkeye, standing next to her. "Are you sure this is a good idea _now_?"

"Nonsense," Hawkeye replied, putting his hands down and walking over to the man obviously in charge. To him, he said, "Hi, there. I'm Captain Pierce. You must be the head of the welcome committee. I gotta say, though, you guys work pretty fast."

The man to whom Hawkeye was talking to came up closer to him. With sleek light brown hair and dark blue eyes that did not quite match the green Army uniform, the man did not look like he was on a mission to be ending injustice. Indeed, he looked more like he was acting the part of the man who had just captured so-called criminals. He was angry, to say the least, and looked so much so that he could only point to Hawkeye and eventually the others. Then, he snapped his fingers loudly.

In seconds, Hawkeye and the others were dragged from their positions and taken quickly behind the hotel without protest. There, a truck was parked, ready to take them back to Korea.

They were finally all under arrest. Whether it was for real or not, it was yet to be explained.

One by one (and quietly, Hawkeye noticed, even for Charles), they all climbed into the truck. Then, one by one, they were all handcuffed and then chained to the internal sides of the truck. Charles, Klinger and Kellye were on the left with Hawkeye and BJ on the right (their luggage disappearing somehow in the rush for arrest). There was room for one more person to sit on the right-handed side, but none of their guards camped out at the edge came for the honor. Instead, the man in charge appeared suddenly (and out of thin air, it seemed) and climbed on in. Sitting next to BJ, he then smiled and motioned to the guards to get the truck moving. Once it was moving and they were out of reach of the hotel, he spoke, allowing the severe look on his face to relax.

"Listen, we don't have much time before we get to the airport and then to Seoul," he started to explain sympathetically as the five leaned in to listen. "My name is Lieutenant Jay Anthony. I'm here on the orders of General Pyle, Seoul sector. We're just here for the show arrest. You five are not really going to be in the stockade."

Kellye was the only one breathing a sigh of relief. Charles smiled, seeming to plan something and trying to retort, but kept his mouth shut. BJ and Hawkeye exchanged a look. Klinger, however, was the only one who would speak.

"Lieutenant, what happened to the Klinger Collection?"

"The _what_?" Anthony asked incredulously.

"What he means is," Hawkeye interjected, "where is the luggage?"

"Oh, that," Anthony said more calmly. "It's following us in another vehicle, the one that is supposed to be making sure none of you jump ship. However, we have more pressing issues to talk about than mere things. I reassured you of your position, but now it's time to elucidate more of the situation."

"What are we going to be doing once we reach Seoul?" Kellye asked immediately.

"Once we all reach Seoul, reports will be sent to Major Floyd that you are all incarcerated, but you will be housed with the general's aides for the time being," Anthony explained. "Already, he ordered the men from Seoul to look for all of you instead of his less reliable Tokyo men. This will be the result of his decision. The better men for the job got the criminals and they were sent back to Korea in disgrace."

"What's the difference between the teams?" BJ then inquired.

"Nothing more than competition and some brains." Anthony smiled. "Now, any and all paperwork will be found on your persons and given to General Pyle. His nephew has mentioned that he suspected that there is something that showed up and was given to Captain Pierce here."

Hawkeye said nothing, wanting to keep the envelope given to him a secret still, even if it wasn't anymore. Even if he went along with the game, he also did not like the rules that it entailed.

Now," Anthony continued, "like I mentioned already, you'll be staying with the general's aides for a few days. It'll be enough time for everything to settle down. After Major Floyd has been arrested, with the evidence I'm sure we now have, then you all can go back to the camp and back to work for the US Army. Everybody will be exonerated and apologized to in a ceremony in Seoul at a later date. However, our main concern is capturing Major Floyd and getting him to admit to not only his treasonous actions, but his despicable ones as well. Crimes against the United States do not go lightly, especially to those who think they know better than the system."

"Tell me this then, Lieutenant," Charles then said sarcastically as he tried to fold his arms with the handcuffs and chains. "How did Major Floyd know so much better than your so-called 'system'? He only thought his father was innocent."

"It's possible that he was and that the other guy accused was the guilty party," Anthony conceded, "but there is also the possibility, as we are now accusing him, that he went too far in taking justice into his own hands. From what we've seen so far, Major Leon Floyd went insane with grief and planned his revenge smartly and almost without anyone detecting a thing. Well, the latter his lawyer will contest, but I doubt it. We've got the means to get him in Leavenworth for life. Pierce?"

Anthony held his hand out, waiting patiently for the envelope Hawkeye was holding. And while Hawkeye himself was reluctant to give it up (trust as he did in the plan), he slowly pulled the photos and documents in the envelope out and handed it to Anthony. Anthony himself smiled again and hid the proof of Floyd's guilt in his own jacket. It was almost as if it did not exist, the beaten paperwork disappeared so fast.

"Now, you five know where we're going, but here's the game here," Anthony said, to conclude his conversation. "You're still going to be prisoners. The tip-off was from one of my men. You've been captured before you checked into your hotel. The media will be all over it, even though your names will not be mentioned. You'll be housed with General Pyle in Seoul and wait there until Major Floyd is arrested, as the lines are moving again and Seoul is safer than Uijongbu now. Then, afterward, you'll be sent back to camp. Within some weeks, you would hear about a ceremony in Seoul or even the trial, if there is one for Major Floyd. It's up to all of you if you want to testify against Floyd."

"That's it?" Klinger scratched his head when he could reach. "Act like we're arrested and we get to go back to camp and maybe get Major Floyd in the klink?"

"That's it," Anthony confirmed.

"That seemed too easy," BJ chimed in. "How do we know you're not double-crossing us or handing us over personally to Major Floyd?"

"We're going to have to trust you, right?" Kellye asked.

"Yes, you'll have to trust us," Anthony replied to Kellye. Then, he looked at BJ. "Don't you think that Major Floyd would be here personally if we were working for him?"

"Not really," Charles had to say. "However, Lieutenant, carry on. If we need to do something for the sake of innocence, then prod us along. Otherwise, I am more than willing to stop falsifying paperwork and get back to work and then home at the end of this fetid war. Lady and gentlemen?"

Nods of consent came on all sides, even Hawkeye's. All he could do was feel some relief, although he was a little wary of Anthony. He had handed over the envelope of evidence to Anthony in the hopes that it would be handed over to the right people. He was on his way to Korea, anxious to get onto the next step of the plan and get everyone in the freed, especially Margaret. Most important of all, he was supposedly in the right hands.

Then, why did he feel so tired from the exercise? He should have been jumping up and down with excitement. Now, he was exhausted from the lack of sleep the past three days had given him and the sheer amount of adventure he had. He even felt responsibility slip from his shoulders even. A new man was now in charge of this investigation.

Feeling a cooler wind caress his hair, Hawkeye smiled himself and looked over at BJ's watch. He saw that it was almost fourteen hundred hours, about three hours after he talked with Sergeant Pyle over in Korea. They had spent an hour getting ready, another getting to the hotel and the last talking with Anthony. He had about three to four hours to go before Margaret was going to Seoul for her incarceration and trial for murder.

_Hang in there, Margaret! We're almost there to free you and the camp!_


	31. On Looser Ends

Since Sergeant Pyle had made the call to Seoul, Colonel Potter had been keeping Radar as busy as possible in his office. Knowing that Major Floyd was out to kill him because of what he knows and because of his resourcefulness (as well as knowing the amount of paperwork to do because of the lack of activity in the camp), Potter put Radar on the line to Seoul for more supplies, news and some trading. Then, around lunchtime, he went to the Mess Tent himself and got Radar a tray of food while Gaines watched him over as he phoned other people for the colonel. Then, as Radar ate his lunch in his office, Potter put him to work on so much paperwork that he knew that it would be the first time in a week that they were caught up on anything.

It was almost fifteen hundred hours by the time Radar was done with the inventory forms. Potter was about to get him going on the last casualty lists before the last of the wounded left when Major Floyd decided to make an appearance in his office as they discussed the usual camp business. While Gaines and Pyle were supposed to be watching out for the major himself, the two also had their behinds to consider and probably had run with the major's orders in another direction.

As Radar shuffled himself into a corner where Floyd could not see him, Colonel Potter looked up at the major, suspected on his end of murder and conspiracy. "What can I do for you today, Major?"

"I need to see your company clerk," Floyd replied baldly, without any of the usual ceremony. "Of course, he is at my disposal, is he not?"

Potter's hair stood on end, but he kept his cool. He knew that he had to play this game out right and that the ball was in his court. Now, it was time for Hoops Potter and get back into defense and make the slam-dunk.

"Not so far, Major Floyd," he said, standing up at his desk. "He's my company clerk first and foremost. You can't pull rank on me and demand him for no reason other than he is at your disposal. And if you _dare_ order him around and out of this office, I will have your keester out of here faster than you can say, "Okie-dokie'. I need him more than you ever will. Do I make myself clear?"

Floyd backed up a little bit with his hands up for his own defense, almost like an animal caught in a corner. Then, he straightened himself up again, the surprise gone from his face. As he dropped his hands "Yes, Sir. It won't happen again, Sir."

"Good. Now, get out of my office before I make a formal complaint myself."

For the first time in almost a week, Potter felt like he had control of his camp again. Standing there at his desk as Radar slowly crept out of his corner and Floyd ran out, he felt more than power seeping through his veins. No, it was pure adrenaline, one that would allow him to make the true decisions of the 4077th and not some thieving murder who ruined what was left of the good reputation of his camp.

_And it's going to take some time to build it up again. Nobody is going to believe that we're a bunch of murders and then we're innocent again._

"Radar," Colonel Potter silently said, "get Sergeant Pyle in here. We need to make another phone call to Seoul. I want to know where Pierce, Klinger and the others are, if they are with the two, which I'm sure they are, if I remember correctly. I want to know if this plan of theirs went through and when we can expect to get back to operating on the boys from the front."

For once, Radar did not recite the orders back to Colonel Potter. He just sat there, staring blankly at his commanding officer, before getting up and going to the door quietly, making sure that he did not attract any more attention from Major Floyd. He did not want to leave the safety net Potter had around him, but he also had to make believe that things were going to be back to normal soon enough. Hawkeye and Klinger would make sure of that.

_I know it! I just know it!_

~00~

Igor, sitting outside the kitchen and waiting the two hours for the cook to finish the meals before serving it up, noticed Major Floyd coming towards him. Taking out a cigarette (rarely did he get the chance to have a break like that), Igor contemplated the situation that the major was in. Of course, he had the power to accuse anyone on the camp of murder, and the murder of a nurse he helped found, no doubt about it. However, Igor had suspicions from the very start that this was all some sort of Army hoax. It was either a test of their loyalty or something was very screwy in this officer.

Puffing away as Major Floyd stopped in front of him, Igor noticed some things about him. His face was pretty red, like he was getting out from a confrontation, no doubt about that. Secondly, it looked like someone had taken something away from him and it was something that he wanted so desperately, like a child on Christmas morning who had a gift taken away for no apparent reason. Lastly, there was a rage. Igor had seen men with anger in them, but this was the type of rage that you can't comprehend, something that even punching someone in the face cannot solve.

"What can I do for you today, Major?" Igor asked calmly as he exhaled some smoke. "If you're gonna ask about tonight's surprise, I'll just say that supper won't be ready for another few hours. Why don't you head on over to the Mess Tent and wait with the others? You can complain right along with them."

"I don't need to be whining with the rest of the camp, Private," Floyd retorted. "I just need you do to something for me before _you_ are sent to Seoul."

"Me, Sir? On vacation in Seoul? When can I go?"

"No, you idiot, sent to Seoul in disgrace and without your precious cigarettes! Now, do as I say or it'll go badly for you."

"I don't think it can be any worse for me, Major. Maybe it'll be easier for you if you just calm down about the food. Once you get used to it, you won't even have taste buds anymore. It'll just be slipping and sliding from now on."

Floyd pulled at his hair in frustration. "Listen, I am not talking about the food, you moron! Now, listen to me and listen to me carefully. And this is a direct order. Now, I need you to get Corporal O'Reilly out here, behind this building. I need to talk to him about something and it requires that we be alone."

"Sir, he's been locked up with Colonel Potter all day. I can't just barge in there and say that Radar needs to be with you."

"Nonsense! Just tell him that some nurse wants to see him and he'll come along, like the good puppy that he is. See? That wasn't too hard to think of a lie, was it, Private?"

Igor knew that something fishy was up, but did not want to say anything. He could just go along with it and report whatever Major Floyd said to Colonel Potter, which was the right thing to do. It was sure to get his blood pressure up, but whatever the major said was always so distrustful and needed to be reported immediately. And even though Igor disliked Major Houlihan for many reasons (KP for no reason being one of them), he did not believe that she would murder a nurse, uncouth that said nurse might be.

With resolution in mind, Igor nodded with agreement at Floyd and walked away, clipping his cigarette against the wall and shoving what was left of it in his pocket. He knew that Major Floyd was still watching him as he went towards Colonel Potter's office (never mind the cook needing him soon), but he also listened closely to him as that sergeant came around to meet up with Floyd. Igor thought that the conversation would be important, so rounded the corner and put his ear as close as he would dare without being discovered eavesdropping.

"What time is it, Wellington?" Floyd asked his counterpart without preamble, wearied by the day's events already, especially the catastrophe in Colonel Potter's office.

"A little after fifteen hundred hours, Sir. We have a few more before needing to go to Seoul."

"Good, good. Now, did our Seoul boys manage to get Pierce and his cronies? I know Tokyo has missed them again and again and had some slippery hands there."

"They sure did, Sir. Last I heard, they were on their way to the airport and on their way back to Korea. All paperwork was taken off of Pierce, things that would undermine this investigation. It was something that somebody had given him. It's bound to be destroyed by Anthony."

Igor then saw Floyd hug Wellington's shoulders. "That's great news. Now, we can rest easy, knowing that it'll be all downhill from here. We can get the head nurse and the priest to Seoul on the evidence we have and slice them in half with the unpatriotic and murder charges. That way, justice will be served. Not to mention, Wellington, there might be a promotion in this for me! I can be a colonel!"

In an instant, greed and hurt surrounded Wellington's eyes, but he did not show it to Floyd, who would have slapped it right out of him in an instant (that, Igor knew to be the truth). He only smiled a predator's grin and put his hands on Floyd's arms. "It'll be over soon before we know it, Sir. Now, anything else you need me to do before we leave?"

"Yeah. When we get Corporal O'Reilly out there, being me the cook's assistance, Sergeant Rizzo, Sergeant Zale and Nurse Baker. We'll take them to Seoul with us. We'll leave by sixteen hundred and thirty hours today. It wouldn't take long to round them all up. Besides, I think I'd like to miss dinner here. Dinner can be in Seoul later."

"And if they won't cooperate?"

Wellington and Floyd let go of each other simultaneously before Floyd responded in a cold voice. "Oh, just kill them. No need to explain, I'll cover for you. It'll be self-defense, of course."

Igor then saw Wellington coming his way (to make sure of something?), so he moved right along to Colonel Potter's office quickly. As he rounded another corner, just outside the doors to the office, he stopped, taking out his cigarette and sniffing it, tempted to smoke it again. Resisting it, he kept on, dropping it in the dirt so that he did not stop and smoke again. He knew that the conversation he just heard was pretty important, and he was sure about it one hundred percent of the way. The only thing he needed to do was to protect himself and the others at this point. If there was a way to warn those people, he would do it.

After all, it was the least Igor could do to them. It was now a matter of life and death for all of them.


	32. Back in Korea

Pyle was on the phone for half an hour, trying to get through to his uncle, the general. As soon as he heard from Radar about what had transpired in the office with Major Floyd, he dropped his gun and ran without caring who saw him. Now, in trying to get information as to when the others will be in Seoul, he had lost several calls, was told that his uncle was busy and then was put on hold. It had been fifteen minutes since someone had talked with him and he was getting pretty fed up with the situation. And thankfully, the line was not disconnected…yet.

"Jesus Christ, why can't they just patch in the call?" he complained as the hold continued.

"Son, just take it easy," Colonel Potter cautioned. "These things can take some time."

"Yeah, but I never had this type of trouble before…Sir!"

"Well, how long have you been waiting, Sergeant?"

"Close to twenty minutes, Sir. I don't know why they've had me waiting, but I am about to try again."

Radar stood patiently next to Potter during the exchange (not willing to patch the call in again), but turned when he saw sudden movement in the office. It was then that he noticed Igor in the office, panting, as if he was running and in a hurry.

"Sir, Colonel Potter Sir, I need to talk to you," Igor said rather unceremoniously as Radar tugged on Colonel Potter's sleeve. "It's about Major Floyd, Sir."

"And what about him, Private?" Potter asked, his attention on Igor and not on Pyle for a few seconds, at least. "Aren't you supposed to be readying our dinner?"

"Yes, Colonel Potter Sir, but I thought you would want to hear about this," Igor explained slowly, confused that his commanding officer would question why he was not on duty with the cook and now telling him about some incident from a few minutes ago. "Well, Major Floyd asked that I get Radar out of this office. And then I overheard him talk with another person, saying that he wanted to pick up some people. He wanted me, Rizzo, Nurse Baker and Zale to go to Seoul with him and Major Houlihan and Father Mulcahy tonight, I think."

Radar paled, but he said nothing. He felt that if he did speak, he would do nothing but stutter in fear.

Colonel Potter was not amused, to say the least. Just as Pyle got someone on the other end of the line (his uncle, most likely), Potter exploded silently. His red face betrayed his feelings, but he motioned Igor and Radar out of his office so that he would yell in peace and without General Pyle hearing him. And he, for one, was not going to have a general overhear his anger while he was helping to get his camp back together again.

"And what did you do, Private?" Potter bellowed as soon as they were out of earshot.

"Came back to you, Sir," Igor said bravely, wanting to take cover, just as Radar was about to do. "I thought you would want to know."

"And what about our dinner?"

"I thought this was more important, Sir. Like I said, I was ordered get Radar here out of the office so that Major Floyd could get him."

Colonel Potter shook his head, trying to dispel his anger. "I wish that man would just leave us alone. Private, now, did you ask when Radar should be with him?"

"No time, Sir. But he is planning on getting the others gathered together and out to Seoul by sixteen hundred and thirty hours."

"Dammit…thank you, Private. I want you to stay in my office for the time being. As soon as this whole ordeal is over, you can leave. I'll explain to the cook what happened so that you won't be in trouble with him. I'll go get Sergeant Gaines and have him gather the others. It's time for this charade to be over."

"Sir?" Igor was confused to be ordered into someplace he'd barely been in.

"Go, Private," Colonel Potter said again, shoving him into his office swiftly at the same time Radar went behind Igor into the safety net. "Stay in there. I'll be right back. Major Floyd won't get past me."

"Sir, wait!" Pyle exclaimed as he stuck his head out of the office doors, to get Potter's attention. "Uncle has news from Tokyo. Pierce and the others are safe and sound and have landed without a scratch. They all took the quick planes out. They're about half an hour from arriving in Seoul from Kimpo."

"Thank God," Potter muttered, refraining from crossing himself and allowing suspicions to override his mind.

"Better," Pyle continued, "that Uncle now has a copy of the evidence against Major Floyd. Lieutenant Jay Anthony, one of his aides, forwarded the material as quickly as he could, in front of him and the others as soon as it was received. Within the hour, less than I should say, it'll be all over. Men are coming here as I speak. The 4077th M*A*S*H would not be off limits to personnel and wounded anymore. It would revert back to its original mission and help the war front."

"I never thought I'd say this, but it would be a welcome change," Potter said, smiling even though the images of what Hawkeye called "meatball surgery" always haunted him. "Now, get go Sergeant Gaines to gather Sergeants Zale and Rizzo and Lieutenant Baker in the nurses' quarters, tent two, I think. I'll head off the cook and let him know that his assistant won't be around to hear complaints about the food tonight. The work will be done faster."

"Sounds like a good plan, Sir," Pyle replied, also smiling. "However, I'd be careful, if I were you. If Major Floyd is desperate enough to get Radar here killed, then I don't know what else he'd do."

"Oh, don't worry about that, Son," Potter only said, heading outside. "I'll just make sure to get my best friend from my tent first. He can't threaten the eagle above him, but he sure as hell isn't going to be killing it."

~00~

It had been a slow ride, but within an hour, Hawkeye, BJ, Charles, Kellye and Klinger were back on Korean soil amid the fireworks of enemy fire. In half an hour, they rode from Kimpo to Seoul in chains, as per the orders of General Pyle, and were led to his temporary headquarters in the city. However, just as soon as they reached their quarters (not the prison, as promised), the chains were taken off the five camp members. Keys were then handed to them for rooms. Hawkeye and BJ shared one room. While Klinger begged and pleaded to be with Kellye (claiming to be a woman in rags), he was assigned to be with Charles, the latter of whom rolled his eyes and almost snickered. Kellye was given the opportunity to mingle with the other nurses stationed at General Pyle's offices and took it immediately, saying goodbye to everyone.

When Hawkeye and BJ reached their room, they saw they were almost in luxury, like a high-end hotel room. Hawkeye's luggage (or what was left of it, picked up by William Foster when he met with Hawkeye, who found it and sent it back), retrieved from Tokyo, was laid out. Fresh uniforms were laid out, ironed even, on the beds. New bars of soap with real shampoo were in the showers. The carpets and walls smelled clean and fresh even, which was omitting the war outside of their doors.

BJ jumped on the bed, landing on his back and wrinkling the spare uniform. "Geez, Hawk, I haven't been in a real bed since I've left home."

Hawkeye copied BJ, but turned to lay on his right side, holding his head up with his hand as he laughed almost hysterically as he threw his spare to the floor. "Yeah, I know. Isn't this something?"

"Why are you laughing?"

"I don't know. Can't believe this is all over?"

"This has been some wild ride. I hope that General Pyle there has it to get the camp back to normal."

"What else do we have?" Hawkeye rolled over and stared at the ceiling.

"Hey, Hawk…"

"Hmm?"

"You were right."

"What do you mean, Beej? How was I right? I ran off without warning, just to get things right, and here we are. How was I correct in going to Tokyo to solve a murder mystery?"

"Because you care," BJ pointed out at long last. "Because you care about Margaret. The camp, yes, you can live on and have the motivation to get things back to where they were. But Margaret? You two have been at each other's throats ever since I knew you. Deep down, though, there is something there that makes you want her to feel special almost. You know what I mean?"

Hawkeye, feigning innocence, shook his head.

"Oh, come on, Hawk." BJ threw a pillow at Hawkeye, hitting the latter in the face. "You love Margaret. Admit it."

"Love? What's love?"

"Don't be stupid, Hawkeye. Just admit it, will you?"

Hawkeye rolled over again and looked at BJ. He showed nothing in those blue eyes of his as he stared at his best friend, but what BJ had said made some sense, even if he could not even tell himself the truth of the matter. He had an attraction to Margaret and the want to give her the world, unlike her previous partners who gave her nothing but grief and lies. A grave injustice had been done to her and he alone had stopped it nothing – nagged even – to go the extra mile to save her and the rest of the camp.

"Admit what? All I'm going to admit is how comfy this is right now," Hawkeye only said, hiding what he thought behind those eyes of his. "I mean, we're going back to cots and the war soon, right? So, we better make the best out of this and enjoy what time we have in this paradise."

"Well, I guess you're right," BJ conceded quickly, ignoring the fact that Hawkeye was avoiding the subject.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door when there was silence between the two Swampmen. When the two did not bother to answer the door or call out in a timely fashion, the door opened. Klinger then showed himself in uniform, obviously annoyed and scratching himself where the green material was.

"Serves me right for hiding that Klinger Collection in Tokyo," he said. "I get this damned uniform and get told not to wear a dress in front of the general again. How do you like that?"

Klinger then saw Hawkeye's things in the corner. "Say, I know you had it with us on the way back here, but how did you get it from the park?" he then asked, amazed. "I only leave the important things back at the hotel and everything is taken away when we get here."

"We don't have much time for that, Klinger," BJ interrupted. "What do you want?"

"Oh, something I've heard when I was snooping around," Klinger replied, tipping back and forth on the balls of his feet. "You know, something I thought would be nice to pass around, as the great Major Winchester is no longer interested in intrigue and spying through keyholes."

"News from camp?" Hawkeye immediately sat up, interested.

"Yeah, something I overheard in the general's office," Klinger said. "He was talking to someone, sounded like a relative or friend who's somewhere near or at the 4077th. I heard that people are now being sent down to the camp to get Major Floyd. The papers you got, Captain, are now convicting him on many a count of things the Army is thinking about. You freed us, Captain!"

"From what, I dare not contemplate," Hawkeye only answered, raising his hand in an imaginary toast. "Do you know how many days we have here, Klinger?"

"Something like two, but who knows?"

"And then what?"

"Who knows? Back to camp?"

"I would guess so," BJ added in.

Afterward, more silence reigned. The threesome stayed in their positions, afraid of what to say and anticipating the best to happen for the first time in a week. For the first time in a while, they had some hope.


	33. Princess in the Castle

After eating lunch on the day of their departure to Seoul, Margaret turned around and kept staring out of her window, possibly the last she would see of it. Even though she could barely see anything now, since Major Floyd had put in more plastic on the windowpanes themselves, she could make out figures and barely make out faces. It was useless, she knew this whole time, but it passed the time, especially since she too sensed a change in the air. And it wasn't for the worst, she thought. Life in camp had seemed to have stopped while she was in captivity. Now, on this hotter afternoon, it was getting back to normal almost.

"Father, do you see this?" Margaret asked, excited for the first time in days. "Do you see this?"

"What is it, Major?" Father Mulcahy looked up from his private meditations, the Bible that was left to him this morning (by Sergeant Gaines, of all people), and smiled. "What do you see?"

"Look! The camp! It's almost as if nothing had happened. Things are going back to what they're supposed to be, except I don't see any wounded."

"Let me have a glimpse." Father Mulcahy shuffled his chains and handcuffs around with Margaret and exchanged places with her. Adjusting his glasses and squinting, he saw that, for the first time since Major Floyd had been in the camp, people were walking with confidence and talking with each other.

"I do see a noted dissimilarity from days passed," Father Mulcahy conceded, "but I don't know why."

"Faith?" Margaret suggested, which seemed to be the word of the day.

"Perhaps, Major, but don't be so hasty. It could be because we are leaving soon."

Margaret's shoulders drooped in despair, tears threatening to come down her cheeks. She was hoping, _so_ hoping for a last minute rescue…

Father Mulcahy soon saw this and managed to crisscross around the bed and sit down next to Margaret. "There, there now, Major. Have a little more faith."

"With what?" Margaret asked bitterly. "I had some when I woke up this morning. I had some when I saw what was outside. Now, you're dashing it!"

"Not on purpose, no," Father Mulcahy soothed. "I was thinking of…other possibilities. I'm sure that this will be straightened out, like I said. I'm sure many people will come through for us."

"You say that like it's going to be happen soon, Father."

"Because He is always telling me to have it." Father Mulcahy pointed to the tent ceiling.

Margaret wanted to roll her eyes, blame God in front of the priest, but denied her eyes and her tongue the chance to lash out its whip. She was tired of hearing about faith, tired of being hopeful, but to hear that perhaps the camp was getting back to normal was because of their leaving was a blow to her heart. She thought that Hawkeye and Klinger would have been here by now. Sure, they had been captured, but escape was always the key (in Klinger's case, of course). Where were they and what was taking them so long?

_Why do I feel like a princess, caught in a castle and guarded by dragons? Would it take so many years just to find me? Am I to sleep for a hundred years, waiting for a kiss that would never come? Or am I to linger in a deathly sleep until I am truly dead?_

Suddenly, the door opened. The two had stopped being so close, showing their guards their mutual respect and space, but Margaret truly rolled her eyes when she saw Sergeants Gaines and Pyle, the two disrespectful ones she had heard. It had seemed more than a century ago, she thought, when she heard their conversations with themselves and Major Floyd, when she started to pray for some help, some sort of mercy. They were the ones who were so keen on mocking the people on the front lines.

"Major, Father, good afternoon," Pyle began in a deferential sort of way.

"What do you want?" Margaret sneered, gaining a warning hand to her arm by Father Mulcahy.

Gaines looked left and right and then opened the door, as if to check for something outside. Then, he closed the door slowly and looked at the two prisoners. He was not sure of what to say, or how to say it, so he nudged Pyle with his elbow. Pyle, in turn, rubbed the arm that Gaines had decided to poke, and only would look at the two with some pity, a lot of sympathy. Then, before Margaret could get into another tirade, he started to speak.

"Look, we don't have much time here," Pyle began. "You both are going to be heading to Seoul with Major Floyd within half an hour. It's sixteen hundred hours right now. Men are on their way."

"For what, Sergeant?" Father Mulcahy asked, confused by the worried faces the two sergeants had been wearing.

"Major Floyd has made a grave mistake," Pyle continued as a reply. "We found the evidence to convict him of murder himself. If the men would get here in time, everyone here would be freed."

Margaret would only gape in astonishment. It would only take moments really, but she could be liberated today, even without Hawkeye and Klinger being there. She would be cleared of all charges and continue her career as an Army officer. Life would go on, without a conviction over her head or her life ruined. This would be erased from her records, like it all never happened.

_Like these days will be erased. They will never see a history log or book ever._

"Major Floyd…murdered those people?" Father Mulcahy asked slowly, to clarify what was going on and what Radar had told them both beforehand. "He framed us?"

"Yes, and he is willing to kill more," Gaines confirmed. "He tried getting to the company clerk there, after he found out what Colonel Potter had him do. And he has a list of more people to take with him to Seoul. More likely, he would kill you all before getting to Seoul or rejoice in a show trial."

Margaret gasped in horror, more angry than surprised or upset. "I'll get him myself!" she promised, making both Gaines and Pyle believe that she was more than willing to murder.

"Hold it, Major," Pyle said. "The men from Seoul should be here soon. Calm down now. I'm sure we can delay Major Floyd before they get there. I'm positive you will be free no later than dinner tonight."

Gaines then tapped on his watch on his wrist. "We better get going. Major Floyd is going to be here soon to get them ready for Seoul."

"Then, how do you propose to delay this?" Margaret asked sarcastically.

"Gaines, Pyle, are you in there?" Floyd's voice was heard outside the door. When he opened it, he saw everyone inside that he needed to see. "Good, good. Now, Wellington and Wright are readying the jeeps now. We don't need the camp MP's. It'll be enough to have the four of you guard the new prisoners."

"And when are we going?" Gaines asked, playing stupid and gaining more time. "I thought we had to wait until dinnertime to go."

"We have new prisoners to round up, Sergeant," Floyd growled, making Margaret cringe when remembering her interrogations with him. "I still have not heard back yet from that kitchen assistant, so you, Pyle, can check in on him please. Gaines, get the rest of them. You know who they are. Wright will assist you. Wellington will watch the priest when we leave. I'll take Major Houlihan myself."

Margaret was confused until she quickly understood the meaning behind his words. _He's going to kill me. He's going to get me someplace remote, claim I was attacking him in a fit of rage, and kill me in self-defense._

Major Floyd then unlocked Margaret from Father Mulcahy and quickly dragged her up by the chains, taking her outside by holding her by the middle of her handcuffs. While some in the camp took some time to gape at the major getting dragged to a jeep by the Motor Pool, Major Floyd had other plans. While he motioned that everyone move on and to not avoid Army business, he directed Margaret to another jeep she saw in the distance, towards the back of the camp.

It was near the woods where Nurse Curtis' bloody trail led the searchers to her body.

"You murdered them," Margaret said, gritting her teeth in pain as Floyd pulled her harder and she put her heels into the ground in a fight to the death. "You blamed me."

"What would make you think a thing like that, Major Houlihan?" Floyd asked her as he pulled harder on the chains, indifferent to her procrastinating attitude as they swung around his wrists. "You've been accused of murder and conspiracy with others in the camp. You tell me how I supposedly murdered a nurse, and perhaps an orderly, and blamed you."

"You have a vendetta against my family," Margaret spat out, spinning Floyd in circles with her chains as she too pulled harder to be free from the tyranny. "Your daddy got in trouble for some reason because of mine and now, you're after me. After years of madness, you finally got me, pinned a murder on me that I did not commit and blamed conspiracy on a camp with a good reputation. Where do you come off blaming an Army career woman like that, Major? What balls do you have on keeping this one locked up?"

After twisting and turning for five seconds more, Margaret liberated herself from Floyd and ran to the only place she could feel safe. The doors to Colonel Potter's office were close, but yet so far away. With her running that small distance, she knew she could make it without Floyd catching up to her. She was going to be in the most neutral zone she'll ever be in and then have a chance to reinstate her rights as an officer. She had the ability to not be a frightened prisoner anymore.

Angry and sputtering out curses as his hand spun red welts, Floyd saw where Margaret was going and quickly took out a gun, aiming at the back of her head. He knew that this was somehow going to end this way, but not the way he intended it to. Already, the camp was now watching him with colder eyes now, closing in on him even though orders were said to keep away. Nurses coming out of the shower, orderlies with now nothing to do, no wounded men from the front on his orders…it was all because of him. And now, he was pulling out a gun and aiming it at the woman who accused him of the murder committed and of the disappearance of another.

"Get away, all of you!" Floyd yelled. "There is a dangerous woman over there, a murderess!"

Before anyone could do anything, a gunshot was suddenly fired.


	34. Guard Them with Your Life

Lieutenant Jay Anthony, already extremely fatigued from the trip to and from Tokyo, sat in a jeep with three other men, all of them eager to end this so-called adventure of theirs. Another jeep was behind him with room to spare for the three prisoners they were about to pick up themselves. One person was in for murder and the other two had charges including hiding and tampering with evidence, accomplices in murder, etc. The list was long from General Pyle, who had kept everyone busy for so long. And Anthony, for once, was going to be happy when the investigations into Major Leon Floyd were over.

Anthony was just mere minutes from the 4077th M*A*S*H. Immediately receiving orders to drop off the camp members from the 4077th that were in Tokyo, General Pyle then literally pushed him into a jeep and sent him to arrest Major Floyd and his two men. The fact that stronger men than he were with him did not make the lieutenant any less apprehensive. Indeed, he was more worried about the so-called criminals at the 4077th. He had no idea what Floyd was capable of, but murder was on top of that list.

Of that, Anthony was sure of.

His driver, Private Henry Weston, leaned forward in his seat, pushing the jeep as fast as he could to the camp at forty miles an hour. He too was anxious for this to be over. The last to be recruited for the investigation into Major Floyd about a year ago, Weston soon grew bored with the great intrigue and mysteries of the man. He, as well as the rest of the crew, wanted to get on with their lives and move on with their careers.

When Weston heard something about less than a mile away, he almost stopped the jeep, but instead turned his inquiry into a question for Anthony. "Sir, what was that?"

"What was what, Weston?" Anthony had no patience for guessing games at this time.

"I heard something that sounded like a shot, Sir. Like a gunshot."

Anthony's blood turned cold, scared of what the possibilities were, even if they were about three miles from the front lines. He too heard it again and knew that it was a gunshot.

"Can you speed this thing up a little?" Anthony then asked Weston, worried about what the gunshot might really mean.

"No, Sir," Weston replied, also just as nervous as his superior. "The radiator will blow if I try. I'm already going as fast as this thing will let me."

Anthony then sighed, realizing how useless he felt. Falling back into his seat, he realized that he was only five minutes away from the camp. Already, he could see the "Best Care Anywhere" sign from a distance, but heard a third gunshot coming from the same direction. He shuddered, hoping that this did not turn out to be another massacre of any sort. There had been enough in the war already, he thought, as he directed Weston to take a slight turn towards Rosie's Bar.

_One more minute…one more minute and we're going to see what's going on._

Anthony, though, was not prepared for what he was about to see.

~00~

Margaret heard the shot immediately behind her and ducked to cover her head as best as she could with what she had, sliding right into the door to the office. She hit her head against the door, but had grabbed someone's attention in the office and was immediately dragged right in. However, when she realized that the shots were not meant for her, she dared herself to look up as her savior (Colonel Potter) held her closely and see what had transpired.

As she and Colonel Potter watched though the window (the latter with his service pistol in one hand, ready for defense), Wellington had stood over where Major Floyd had been. Holding a smoking gun in his hands as he looked down at Floyd, he shot again at his head, sprouting another bloody hole where he had put the first one. A third shot to the head ended it all, once and for all, and Colonel Potter groaned to see it.

The camp, who had been gathering around Floyd as he tried to shoot Margaret, had backed away slowly and then scattered as Wellington looked around and then headed in another direction, disappearing altogether. They all knew that gunmen could turn on anyone else in an instant after raging for another. Their survival instinct carried them into tents and buildings to defend themselves or to hide.

After Margaret was dragged in by Colonel Potter, Gaines suddenly appeared into the office with Father Mulcahy, almost getting himself shot when he scared Colonel Potter. The latter was still in handcuffs, but Gaines, huffing and trying to catch his breath, held up a key as the door was shut and locked.

Unlocking the handcuffs off of Margaret and Father Mulcahy as fast as he could, Gaines said to Colonel Potter, "They should be here soon. I don't know where they are, but they should be here soon."

Colonel Potter, still on lockdown mode and quite nervous (almost shooting his own made it worse), stood guard at the door and continuously watched the window. He then motioned that Gaines move aside and that he stand in front of everyone else, not saying a word. Something had happened out there and Gaines could not tell if it was good or not.

"Sir, you don't –" Gaines started before Colonel Potter interrupted him with unlocking and then opening and closing the door quickly, allowing four men to come in.

"Where are they?" someone asked, obviously the person in charge. When Gaines looked again, he saw that it was Anthony, soon introducing himself and his men quickly to everyone else.

Gaines was not on good terms with Anthony. Both had been at odds since Gaines was recruited to General Pyle's investigation into Major Floyd about three years previously, just before the war in Korea broke out. Gaines did not know Anthony's problems with him, but figured that, because of his age and closeness to the general himself, he was a target. Now, with war almost behind them and an investigation almost finished, both eyed each other with suspicion and then apathy. None were eager to get into another argument at the moment, but more concerned about the safety of the camp.

"It appears that Major Floyd is dead," Margaret stated plainly from behind Gaines.

"Who are the others you talking about, Lieutenant?" Colonel Potter immediately asked Anthony. "We've got nobody else you want unless you want to get our friendly sniper out there for us."

"Is that who's out there dead?" a private asked, introduced as Weston.

"Ready for Grave Registry," Colonel Potter confirmed without compassion. He had no love lost for Major Floyd.

"Listen, Colonel, we have no time," Anthony quickly stated when he realized the gravity of the situation now. "We need to capture and arrest three men. Since one of them is dead, I agree, we will have Grave Registry pick him up. And he was one that we were eager to nail too."

"Wh-what are you talking about?" Margaret almost stuttered, not quite understand who else was involved.

"We've been tracking Major Leon Floyd for years, Major," Anthony explained, as if he was in a hurry. "We knew that his father was convicted of treason and the family name changed, but some criminal activity was suspected to be done by him and some friends of his. Now, we're also looking for Corporal Taylor Wright and Sergeant O'Neill Wellington. Are they in the camp?"

"The shooter seems to have been Wellington," Colonel Potter replied, pointing outside with his service pistol to where Floyd's body was laying. "I can't tell from here. Wright, I don't know where he is."

"I was supposed to be ordered to get the rest of the accused with Wright," Gaines revealed. "I don't know where he could be. I didn't search for him. Pyle and I went in opposite directions when Floyd left with Major Houlihan here. I was more concerned about Father Mulcahy."

"Where could Sergeant Pyle be?" Anthony asked Gaines urgently.

"He could be in the kitchen with the cook as ordered, but I don't know," Gaines replied. "You're gonna have to look."

Anthony regarded Gaines carefully before deciding that he was telling the truth. Distrustful as he was of Pyle's friend, he still trusted his word over that of Major Floyd, who all of them were pretending to work under for so long now, but were looking into. He nodded his head, satisfied, and motioned to Weston and the others to go out into the camp and gather the conspirators in the murder of Nurse Winifred Curtis, the disappearance of Sergeant Aaron Church and other charges. Anthony added that Wellington was now going to be charged in Major Floyd's murder. Why it was committed in plain sight, they could find out later.

To Gaines, Anthony only said before leaving with his men, "You stand as the protector here and guard them with your life. When I get back, I want you and Pyle, when we find him, to come back with us to Seoul."

"Why, Sir?" Gaines asked, confused.

"To be a witness to this shameful mess," Anthony only replied before going out with his men.


	35. Humiliation or Honor?

It was nightfall before it was all over finally. As the group stayed in Colonel Potter's office (including the colonel himself, Margaret, Nurse Baker, Father Mulcahy, Radar and Sergeants Rizzo, Zale and Gaines), they heard the sounds of tents being overturned, campmates being interviewed and even some shouts of discovery. While all talked cautiously about what was happening…what the future was going to hold…and even sometimes the occasional wistfulness of home, the outside world seemed to have closed in on them, overwhelming them. However, it was Colonel Potter who kept them from looking out the windows and going outside. It was his guiding hands that helped to keep conversations flowing and some drinks going down, even if he normally did not spare them to the others.

Around nineteen hundred hours, he was already tucking some people in and saying good night. Rizzo had run back to the Motor Pool for some sleep under a jeep, claiming that he had enough of the trouble and could take care of himself. Zale ran off in another direction, to the Supply Room, stating the same. Nurse Baker stayed with Margaret, both oddly talking over some drinks by the intercom, but soon they grew tired and getting some well-needed sleep together when they found a corner next to a filing cabinet in the office. Igor and Radar dozed off on the cot next to the nurses, making Colonel Potter smile as he pulled blankets over the foursome.

When Pyle showed up around twenty-one hundred hours that night (originally found in the kitchens with the cook and recruited to find Wellington and Wright), he told both Colonel Potter and Father Mulcahy the news. He was wringing his hands as he did so, knowing that he had to be careful around the sleeping company in the office, but he also knew that they were in good hands now and would be told of what had transpired in the morning.

"Wright and Wellington have been found," Pyle began as he sat before Colonel Potter in his office. Father Mulcahy was sitting to his right.

"Where were they?" Colonel Potter asked anxiously.

"Wright was hiding in the nurses' showers, about to hang himself," Pyle admitted with some hesitation, especially with Father Mulcahy around. "He was struggling for air when Weston and Anthony found him. The tent itself was about to collapse anyway because of the weight. He is still alive and has been revived. He is now in custody."

"Oh, my!" Father Mulcahy exclaimed.

"And Wellington?" Colonel Potter asked as he ignored the priest's outburst, more concerned about the blatant murderer than Floyd's dead body at the moment.

"Well, he was tougher to track," Pyle said, his knuckles turning white with the wringing. "There were bullet holes in the tents and lots of scared people. They pointed us in many directions, but it was Anthony who saw some tracks by Rosie's Bar, where Nurse Curtis' bloody trail began. We followed the old trail, where the footprints were, and found him by the same location the body was. Next to him was the dead body of Sergeant Aaron Church. It appeared that he was killed some time ago, maybe a couple of days ago, and was left to rot. Wellington was burying him to hide the evidence."

"What evidence?" Father Mulcahy asked. "I thought the body would have been proof enough of guilt."

"No, there were some papers on the sergeant," Pyle replied generally. "Anthony saw them on the body and tossed them at me, saying to make copies when we get to Seoul. When I read it, I was amazed. It was damning evidence that both Wright and Wellington were recruited to help Floyd. Apparently, the man was bent on revenge, but needed help and somehow forged paperwork to get the two into the Army, despite a criminal record on the both of them, for armed robbery and such. When in the Army, the two had done most of the dirty work for Floyd, such as planting contrary evidence and the like.

"Now, because Floyd was dealing with General Hannibal, documentation was stored and some spying was done on their end as well, to make sure that Floyd was doing his part of the bargain, as we found out. They helped him frame Major Houlihan and he gives them information about our positions in West Germany, which is top secret. However, you know that Nurse Curtis was one of them and Hannibal did not expect one of his own killed. So, it appears that Church there was about to send a note, because he was one of them as well and was obliged to run, and was found out and killed. We don't know yet who murdered who, but it does appear that Floyd was the mastermind behind the whole scheme."

"And he's dead, the Lord bless and protect him and his family, even if he was a sinner," Father Mulcahy intoned.

"Yes, well, his wife and children were going to suffer the same fate as the previous generation, but the Army does not know what to do with them yet," Pyle offered somewhat kindly. "They can tell them the truth and not spare the children any humiliation or let the family know that he died in a war zone, and not how, and bury him with military honors. At this point, though, I would not give him any honors, not for the world."

"And my camp?" Colonel Potter asked, inclining his head to the slumbering figures outside of his office.

"Within three days, you should receive the wounded again," Pyle confirmed. "It would take that long to process any paperwork that we file and to counter some of Major Floyd's. While the ban off of the camp will be lifted, the investigation will not. It might take some months before it is officially closed."

"And those of my personnel accused? Will they be declared innocent?"

"Yes, Colonel. My uncle will personally handle that paperwork and let the Army know that Major Floyd had framed them all and that no evidence existed."

Colonel Potter doubted any general handling the paperwork personally, but he took Pyle's word for it and let it be. He did not want to argue, even if his temper was rising and rising fast.

"And in any case," Pyle continued, "for my part, this investigation is closed. Colonel, Father, while I am glad that this has ended, I do not like the justice that was served."

"My camp did not need to be accused of murder nor the site of one too," Colonel Potter said gruffly, suddenly angry at the words said to him. "And General Pyle himself could have told me what was going on instead of allowing this…this goon to be running around and destroying people's careers. Why Floyd was sent here and some other person concerning this murder, I don't know. But Sergeant, I am not pleased. My camp fell apart, the lines could have been over us and we could not move and people could have been killed. It would have fallen on me, as their commanding officer, but being under the thumb of some jackass was not my idea of control in a war zone where anybody could have gotten themselves killed."

"Sir, I can –"

"I don't care what you want to explain, Sergeant. Just tell the general to do as he pleases, but to leave my camp alone. We do not handle affairs of spying and all that the war entails. We handle the wounded and sick. And, quite personally, after all of this, I think all of us want to go home and recuperate."

Pyle took the heat quite well, Father Mulcahy thought and noted, watching as the sergeant stopped wringing his hands. He even smiled as he stood up, knowing that he was about to be dismissed. It was almost mocking the colonel, surely, and it was insubordination, but it also seemed to have agreed with the sentiment that Potter was conveying to him. Sergeant Pyle was only a tool, Father Mulcahy reasoned, and a good person that would handle cases like this with respect and care.

_Not to mention, he has some faith in happy endings. And ours was a good one, although a little violent._

"I will most certainly send your message to my uncle, the general," Pyle only said, saluting (again, it was almost on the mocking side). "If you need anything, Colonel, you know where to find us. I'll send the rest of your personnel back to you, safe and sound, in those three days."

"They had better be," Colonel Potter growled again, dismissing Pyle with his own salute.

Pyle then turned to leave, but Father Mulcahy followed him out immediately, not caring if Colonel Potter needed him or not. When the two reached the hot outdoors and Pyle was about to jump into the jeep with Weston and Gaines, Father Mulcahy tugged on his sleeve to get his attention.

"You did the best that you could," Father Mulcahy said, as if to reassure the younger man that he was not in the wrong. "And you saved us all from a horrible fate. I thank God that you and your friends were around when we needed you the most."

Pyle nodded, thanking Father Mulcahy with his wordless gesture, but he did not say anything to the priest. He was almost afraid to.

"Please tell your uncle our most humble thanks," Father Mulcahy continued. "And May God bless you and keep him and your company. I hope to see you soon, Sergeant."

"And you too, Father," Pyle finally replied, but with some caution as he jumped in and sat down in the jeep.

"Bring the others home safely to us," Father Mulcahy concluded. "And thank you again."

As the jeep drove away in silence, Father Mulcahy could almost swear that he heard Pyle saying something, but he couldn't tell. He was not expecting any acknowledgement of his thanks, by any stretch of the imagination, but at least he knew that Pyle was grateful for his words alone and that it would carry the rest of the missing members of the camp back home.


	36. War Comes Knocking

**I know it's been a while since I've updated this story. I know I promised no filler chapters for a while, but the story is winding down and I'm giving you all...GASPS!...another filler chapter, just for the time being. I hope you do enjoy it. I will update and finish this up soon, hopefully before the end of the year. Then, I can focus on the newer stories. Again, I do want to thank all who have supported me. You all know who you are!**

* * *

For three glorious days, Hawkeye enjoyed himself in Seoul. When released the next day to his own devises, he spent the time fooling around, as if he were living to the fullest and then dying at the end of the three days. Along with BJ, he drank at the bars, walked in the parks and posed with statues, to see if the locals would know who was what and what positions they thought offensively sexual. Then, without his friend, he would visit all of his lady friends, jump into some of the local's home for local entertainment and even treat some of the sick for free, not caring if it would cost him his life. He balanced play and pleasure with work and found out how it suited him, how he felt the need to settle down someday.

He did not know how he was going to react when getting back to the 4077th. He did not know how he was going to act when he saw Margaret again. Every night even, after reassurances from Sergeants Pyle and Gaines (the men behind the voices) that they would go back, Hawkeye dreamed of Margaret, even after suppressing the feelings for so long and not even thinking about them on the trip for justice. He would confess his feelings for her in these dreams of his, kiss her gently, show her how much of a gentleman he could be…but then, she would push him away and leave, going after some unknown general with a million stars. He never understood the dreams, but reality might be different.

_I hope._

Even without the anxiety about Margaret, Hawkeye was also nervous about going back to the war. Who in their right mind would welcome him back? How will everyone feel, especially after Major Floyd and his cronies went by? How would the war affect them afterward? Who will be able to testify at the trials coming up, if possible?

Hawkeye knew that both Wright and Wellington, the two who had initially chased him and Klinger around Tokyo and almost cost him an arm and a leg from hanging out of a window, were charged with many things he could not ponder. They were also going to be held in the stockade for a long time, no questions asked. Already, even though the US was founded on an "innocent until proven guilty" card, the two's verdicts were already set to guilty. That much Hawkeye knew.

"And what about us?" he randomly asked BJ as they headed back to the 4077th in a jeep. While Gaines was driving him, BJ and Charles back, Pyle had Kellye and Klinger in a second vehicle.

"So, what about us, Pierce?" Charles asked, sniffling from his seat in the front. "We'd be going back to that hellhole from whence we came from. No reward necessary, but I don't know what would be nicer. Tokyo and escaping from that hideous creature was more than my fair share of 'fun' this week."

As Charles artificially laughed, BJ snorted. "At this point, I think the best thing would be to go home."

"Yeah, when?" Hawkeye asked bitterly. "We've been here forever and now, this had to happen. I can't believe it."

"Hawkeye, we're going back to camp," BJ explained slowly. "What else did you expect? A pat on the back and a ticket homeward, like we all wanted?"

Hawkeye was silent for a moment, thinking.

"Oh, come off it, Pierce," Charles exclaimed from his front seat. "It's not like we're not going to be welcomed back. Why, I'm sure all those boys and girls are just _itching_ to have another party because they're so bored."

"Or because they're happy to be back to normal," BJ mumbled, trying to ignore Charles' insidious remarks.

"Regardless," Hawkeye said, trying to keep cheerful and forget his dreams, "when we get back, I think a drink is in order."

"When _is_ the last time you had that awful swill you call gin?" Charles asked, still on a snobbish roll. "Last Sunday, before Father Mulcahy's Mass?"

"Ha, ha, very funny, Charles," Hawkeye replied, the twinkle in his blue eyes seeming to come back. "When we get back, I think your pants will be the least of your worries. I think your tape recorder will be safer there instead of out in the open."

"Pierce, don't you even _dare_," Charles growled.

Behind the jeeps, enemy fire suddenly started. As the three abruptly turned from teasing to sullen, they then remembered the job they had when they reached the camp. It wasn't about the partying or the boredom anymore. It was about the war and the wounded that they had to patch back up.

And Hawkeye was in no mood to be reminded of it. He had more thoughts about Margaret.

"Now, what was that you were going to say, Charles?" Hawkeye asked sweetly, ignoring the mortar rounds far behind them as he held onto his helmet for dear life.

"Pierce, you sniffling fool, leave everything alone and you'll be left in one piece," Charles promised just as nicely as Gaines announced that they would be back in camp in another hour.

"Oh, goody," BJ said, clapping his hands sarcastically. "I can't _wait_ for the games to begin."

~00~

When Hawkeye remembered a distant memory, when Henry Blake had announced a ceasefire from General Clayton, he had been the happiest man alive. He was supposedly going home, leaving the hellhole from which he had been staying in for too long now (some three months, at that point). Everyone had partied on for hours before Clayton came and the message had arrived that the war was back on (and most of their things missing until new supplies had come in). Now, it was two years later almost and he had never seen so much celebration in his life. It was almost like the war _was_ actually over.

Toilet paper and gloves blown up as balloons were everywhere. People surrounded the two jeeps and tried carrying everyone out, but failed when Klinger's dress popped out and showed too much and he insisted that he walk out without assistance. As Hawkeye got out of the jeep, he found himself face-to-face with Colonel Potter. With Gaines, Pyle, BJ, Charles, Kellye and Klinger disappearing into the crowds, Hawkeye was surprised to find his CO staring at him so intently at him and smiling.

"Well, Pierce, this has been a happy day," Colonel Potter began awkwardly, not sure of what else to say.

"You can say that again," Hawkeye replied slowly, shuffling his feet. "Just don't thank me for it. I didn't get all of this by accident, you know."

"But because of you, we don't have to live under someone else's thumb," Colonel Potter insisted, putting a father arm over Hawkeye's shoulder and leading him away from the partying. "Pierce, you've saved not only Margaret, but this camp as well. There is a lot to be thankful for right now, even if it's not Thanksgiving. You need to know that."

Hawkeye was again struck with silence.

"Son, you would not believe the horror these people have gone through," Potter continued, as if Hawkeye was also in on the conversation. "It's not just the war that has them up in arms, but the treatment the Army has given them because they let this jackass accuse them of something that they did not do. And, as your CO here, it's usually my duty to see that some of you have a career in this Man's Army. Right now, I've lost all confidence in that. I can't persuade a bunch of you draftees and regulars to stay in this Army for longer than the war. After this, it'll be impossible, and all because of Major Floyd."

Hawkeye could not help but snort, keeping his laughter in. "You? You have to get some of us to stay in?"

"All part of the job, I suppose," Potter replied, happy to see Hawkeye in a better mood than before. "Pierce…Hawkeye, listen. You really don't know how grateful we really are to you and I do want to be the first to say…thank you. Thank you for believing in the impossible and doing what this camp was probably too scared to do. But can you also forgive an old Calvary officer to staying in position and following orders?"

"Can I say no to those pretty colonel eyes?" Hawkeye immediately asked as Colonel Potter unhooked his arm from his shoulder.

"No, you probably can't," Potter said, laughing. "Now, we do have something down at –"

An announcement soon interrupted Potter and brought back the reality of war, something that had followed the five back to camp. "Attention, attention all personnel. Incoming wounded, coming in on chopper, ambulance and bus. Welcome back the heroes to Korea, everyone!"

Hawkeye and Colonel Potter both looked to each other in dismay and then professionally. It was back to business as usual. The war had come knocking on their doors again.


	37. Impossible to Imagine

It was some hours later, after the first batch of wounded came in following the ordeal of the last few days. Hawkeye did not know how many hours he had to stand there after coming back to the camp, ministering to more men and children than he could count, so close behind the chase to and from Tokyo. Before long (before he knew it really), it was nightfall and then after midnight. When he was able to, he snuck out of the OR and went straight to the Officers' Club. He knew that it was open and that Igor was bartending for the late nighters, as was his orders from Colonel Potter when his duties were done. Hawkeye wanted to seek the loneliness of the cold walls that it offered him.

Besides, nobody was going to find him there immediately. If someone looked in the Swamp and he was not there, he calculated that he had some time to down at least a drink before people came to invade his personal space.

And there was time to think. After all, it was the first time he had seen anyone in a few days (save for his companions from Tokyo), especially Margaret. While everyone was up to par and getting the assembly lines going as one wounded person after another came through, the tension in the room took on a more serious tone as the war took over their minds once more. There was no time to contemplate the horrible coming and going of Major Floyd or how Nurse Winifred Curtis made an impact on their lives, whether she was dead or alive. There was no time for selfish thoughts, woe-to-me worries either.

Hawkeye was unable to see Margaret directly or work with her. As she supervised her nurses in a domineering tone again, walking around as if all was normal and nothing happened to her, all paid heed and did their duties, especially Kellye, who could not afford another mistake. He could only watch here and there as she zoomed in and out of the doors. He even studied her like a painting, hoping to get some pleasure out of the exquisiteness of her being there, but could not enjoy the moments fully. Instead, he had to listen to the babble around the OR as this or that person complained about this and that hill being invaded or how this and that made conditions impossible to work with. Even as Radar read off some report around ten o'clock that evening concerning the war news, Hawkeye was busily eying Margaret as she worked on getting more blood for the OR, hoping to see something resulting from her confinement.

Nothing. There was nothing much to show it. Margaret was strong, but did not dare show her weaknesses or the past torments she suffered. She stayed the same, like Hawkeye noticed before, bossing her nurses the same, and kept her composure to herself. Except, if Hawkeye looked a little closer, he saw some red marks on her face from fingernails, probably from getting slapped around by Floyd (with his fingernails getting into her skin). She was a little thinner, like she had not been fed much in a few days. Worse, yet, some wall had been built up in his absence, like she was hiding all of her fears, something new that frightened Hawkeye. The last time Margaret had built a wall around herself was those times when she was with Frank Burns and sometimes Donald Penobscott. And those were not the best of times with her.

Ceaselessly working until Klinger announced that Pre-Op was empty, all seemed relieved to hear that the work was over. The partying could begin perhaps, but at a later point, when there was daylight or a cooler evening. Hawkeye was only glad to run off to the Officers' Club, especially knowing that Igor was bartending until three AM and that he could be alone for a few minutes, just to think about Margaret, the last few days and what a nightmare it had all been.

"What will it be, Captain?" Igor asked politely as soon as he saw Hawkeye sit down quietly, musing for a few minutes.

"Huh?" Hawkeye stopped spacing out. "Make it the usual and make it extra dry."

"One extra dry martini, coming right up." Igor made the drink, looking over at Hawkeye on occasion as he said nothing, joked about nothing. As he handed it over to the captain, he added, "Listen, Captain, I don't like to pry, but I think you're taking this a little too seriously."

"What do you mean?" Hawkeye sipped on his drink, hearing voices from the other side of the doors already.

_Dammit, they're too quick!_

"Well, look at it this way, Sir. It's over. And soon, the war will be over, I'm hoping. We'll all go home and this will all be almost like a dream. Right?"

"This, a dream?! Are you kidding me?" Hawkeye was almost livid as he took a gulp, instead of a sip, of his martini. "The things I've seen since I've been in this rat hole are numerous, never mind the war. I couldn't _dream_ these things up. I don't have an imagination _big_ enough for it!"

"Umm, Captain…?"

"No, don't interrupt me!" Hawkeye ranted on. "This is unbelievable. The war comes along, we're in a crummy place, and someone decides to send some Nazi spy out here and she gets murdered in some plot to discredit Margaret because his father was put into jail by her father. The real murderer gets murdered and we're all holed up until it's all cleared up and Margaret Houlihan is free from a Seoul trial. Well, you know Margaret Houlihan, right? Tough, ballsy Margaret Houlihan, right?"

"Sir –"

"And the guy that murders the nurse and her new companion, cheating on her husband of some years naturally, frames the evidence, gets himself sent here and makes our lives a living hell before getting murdered himself by some jealously insane aide. As if there isn't enough murdering around here to begin with!"

"Umm, Sir –"

Pierce! The man of the hour! Just the person we want to see!" Colonel Potter entered the Officers' Club in the middle of Hawkeye's ranting, accompanied by BJ, Charles, Margaret, Father Mulcahy, Kellye and Klinger. "Private, drinks are on me tonight. Pierce can have as many as he wants."

As the group settled onto stools or on tables, Hawkeye shook his head with disgust. "No, no, I'm good. I'm good on reality, real or imagined."

"Oh, come on, Hawk," BJ slurred as he sat next to Hawkeye. "You're the man of the hour! You've rescued us from the dragon!"

Hawkeye, sober after only taking few sips from his martini, sniffed BJ. "You're drunk," he accused. "You went to the Lady Still of the Swamp behind my back!"

"No, I'm just intoxicated." BJ smiled.

"Same difference." Hawkeye downed the last of his martini and got up from his stool as Kellye and Klinger crowded behind him. "Look, I know everyone wants to celebrate from being free, but we're not all free. Something like this could happen again."

"Pray to God it doesn't," Father Mulcahy said, crossing himself.

"Are you trying to set a Lebanese curse on us, Captain?" Klinger asked frantically.

"Yeah, well, there might not be a next time, no Sergeant Pyle or Gaines, no general who can save us from harm because he was investigating too," Hawkeye ranted on. "And there might not be a me, if there ever was one to begin with."

"Hawkeye –" Margaret started gently.

"Now, now, Margaret, we know better, don't we?" Hawkeye started walking away, dramatically stopping at the doors and turning to face the group. "We can't all imagine the impossible here, can do? We do enough impossible things, going from one thing to another and thinking nothing about it, maybe pretending it never happened, like that enlisted nut over there, making drinks. What was one more, one more little thing that disturbed our abnormal lives? Are we that dense that we have to forget something like that, a place like this that holds too many lives and deaths, all in one? I think not!"

With that, Hawkeye left the Officers' Club, leaving the group confused. Kellye and Klinger soon took over where Hawkeye was and requested drinks. Afterward, it was silent until BJ spoke his own peace. Even drunk, his words were a little garbled, but even he was sober enough to understand how frustrated Hawkeye really was.

"What happened over there?" BJ asked, then requesting from Igor a beer.

"I don't know, but he seems over his rocker," Igor replied, handing BJ his beer.

"What do you mean, Private?" Colonel Potter was immediately handed his usual from Igor, the latter starting to clean up glasses.

"Well, Sir," Igor began, "I told him to start forgetting about what happened. I didn't mean to tell Captain Pierce to make sure it didn't happen. You know what I mean?"

"He's taking this too hard on himself," Father Mulcahy observed.

"How much has he heard?" Margaret asked, her face becoming flushed quickly. Even she did not know exactly what the camp had heard concerning those who had been kept in captivity and those who were told to mind their own business.

"I don't know, but there have been more whispers of conspiracy," Charles added in with a smug smile, taking his turn in adding fuel to a gossipy fire.

"I know he heard about Major Floyd being shot by his aide there," BJ said morosely. "I know I did. I didn't know whether to rejoice or mourn. A dead body is a dead body."

"Even if the Lord told us to love our enemies, I think he would understand and hopefully take care of Major Floyd's family," Father Mulcahy replied.

"But it doesn't answer the question," Colonel Potter pushed. "What is making Pierce tick? Why is he so wound up?"

"I can tell you that he's been that way since the beginning, Colonel," Margaret ranted herself, Regular Army for a moment. "Unmilitary, undisciplined and unprofessional."

"I think anyone reading his personnel file would know that, Major," Charles remarked. "However, it is of my interest as to _why_ you seem so concerned about Pierce. I mean, if you think he is that childish, and of course he is, then why be so anxious about his welfare?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Major," Margaret defended with a straight face, without a flush or smirk that showed her thoughts.

"It's all right, Winchester. Margaret and the previous surgeon that was here were always seemingly fascinated with what Pierce and Hunnicutt here were doing." Colonel Potter stretched his legs. "It's about oh one hundred, everyone. Drinks are me until happy hour is over and we hit the sack. Who's on duty later on in the morning?"

"The duty rooster is in Post-Op," Margaret volunteered, already feeling like she could not afford to get drunk. While she ordered a drink and barely sipped on it (just before Hawkeye left), she was more interested to know what had happened to Hawkeye, what had motivated him to get to the bottom of the barrel and, most certainly, what _got_ him to think out of impossible situations.

"I'm sure that nobody here is going to be on duty later in the morning," Klinger added, seeing that Margaret had other plans in mind and was willing to foil them. "If you need to know who is going to be in Post-Op later, I can get it for you, Sir."

"No need to, Klinger," Margaret interrupted, forgoing her drink. "I'll get it. I need to take a walk anyway."

"Be back before the hour is over," Colonel Potter called out, unsuspected as the rest of the group, as Margaret headed out the door. "I want to know who is on what schedule before you all go horsing around and I'm sleeping on the job."

"Oh, don't worry, Sir," Margaret yelled back. "I won't forget."


	38. Maybe There is a Reason

Margaret was not keen on getting that duty rooster immediately. She did want to take a walk around the camp, to clear her mind out a little and to be alone, but to also talk with Hawkeye. She owed it to him to at least thank him for the effort he put in so that everyone could be free from Major Floyd and his men, especially her, but to also tell him something more, if he would allow it. For a long time (months, but it seemed forever in a place like Korea), something was brewing in Margaret's mind. Ever since she was married to Donald Penobscott and had experienced that night out with Hawkeye under enemy fire after receiving a letter addressed to Donald's lover on the side, she had been thinking over her feelings for the prankster surgeon. She respected him surely, but to love him as he so obviously did to her was something different to her, a foreign feeling that she should not shake off.

"He loves me, he loves me not," Margaret whispered to herself as she randomly picked up a flower from Father Mulcahy's garden and started peeling off the petals as she walked. "He loves me, he loves me not…"

After doing a short circuit around the camp and about to do another one, Margaret finally braced herself and braved her soul for the conversation she wanted to have in the Swamp. She luckily saw the light on where Hawkeye slept and noticed that BJ and Charles were not in sight (still probably relaxing in the Officers' Club with the others most likely, she reasoned). It was as good a time as ever to talk over feelings.

_If Hawkeye would ever talk about his is another story._

Sighing, Margaret walked over to the Swamp and knocked on the door, hearing the dartboard bang a few times because of it. Without an answer, she entered anyway, seeing that Hawkeye was not just ignoring her, but paying more attention to a nudist's magazine that he just received in the mail probably weeks before. Volleyball had graced the cover in the most disgusting way, but Margaret ignored it (vile as she thought it always had been), clearing her throat and waiting for Hawkeye to acknowledge that she was there.

Soon, though, the surgeon saw the head nurse through the magazine, amazingly enough. Laying it down, he exclaimed, "Margaret! It's a pleasure. I always dreamed of this moment."

As Hawkeye patted the bed, Margaret fumed, throwing out all those feelings she wanted to confess. "Oh, can it, will you, Pierce?"

"You obviously came in here for a reason," Hawkeye reasoned, pulling himself up. "Do enlighten me upon the nature of your call."

"Well, perhaps there was a reason and perhaps there wasn't now," Margaret said with some hesitation.

"You're sounding more and more like Frank Burns by the minute and I'm saying this with a smile on my face," Hawkeye replied, sounding a little irritated by the thought of their former surgeon. "And I'm not going to be hitting you in the face, Major Baby."

"Oh, you never learn, do you?" Margaret threw her hands in the air. "I just wanted to come in here to say a little something, just because I didn't want anyone around, and you make it out to be like it's all some social call."

"And what if it's not?"

"What do you mean?"

Hawkeye sat up and faced Margaret. "I saw you out there, picking a flower and counting petals. Don't tell me this isn't just a social call."

Margaret's face bloomed red.

"Furthermore," Hawkeye continued, as if in a rant, "who in their right mind asks if someone loves them or not?"

"Well, who in their right mind complains when Happy Hour came and went?" Margaret countered, crossing her arms.

"Margaret, Margaret, Margaret…" Hawkeye stood up, uncrossing her stubborn arms. "You don't understand and never will."

"That's what I'm trying to do, you sick pervert," Margaret said, almost pushing the caring hands away. "I'm trying to come to some understanding with you and all you can do it sit there and whine and joke. And drink and read that stupid magazine. It's all you do in this stinking place."

"So did you, except for looking at those pretty girls." Hawkeye's hands seemed suspended in the air as he held onto Margaret's arms gently.

"Not as much as you." Margaret turned away. "And all I wanted to say…all I wanted to tell you was a simple thank you. Never more, never less."

Hawkeye was stunned. Margaret had said few things in the time they had spent together alone. Most of them had been scorn. Some had been kind, tender even. Others had been mournful of how unmilitary he was, especially at the beginning of the war. Nonetheless, the casualness of how she said it…how distant she sounded…it all seemed like a nightmare. He had watched as she walked around the camp perimeter. He saw her pick up the random flower and count who loved her and who didn't. Now, he saw that she needed to say something more than a simple thanks, but the callousness of it seemed more than just admitting that she needed help. There was more to her gratitude than that.

Margaret crossed her arms again, expecting Hawkeye to say something sarcastic or witty, but his tongue was tied. "What now, Pierce? One of my nurses dress up like a cat and made you silent?"

"No, no…" Hawkeye turned around, unable to face his disappointment as he went for the still, intent on getting a drink. "But thanks for stopping in to tell me that. Somebody had to get the job done."

"Because you knew I was innocent." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

"Everyone knew you were innocent, Margaret. It was only a matter of getting past that Army mumble-jumble and getting to who had done the deed and why. It was all elementary, my dear. All I did was follow the clues and, by chance, found the proof I needed. And it was a lucky of us to have people who cared and had been following Major Floyd. Don't you think?"

Margaret's heart softened as Hawkeye poured himself a drink and offered her one, nodding her head to both the drink and his last question. When she accepted the martini glass, the two sat down. Hawkeye faced Margaret from his cot while she sat in the chair next to the cot. The two still say nothing to each other, drinking silently. Margaret then cleared her throat again.

"So, why don't you tell me about what happened in Tokyo?" she asked quietly, as if to dispel the mood she was in previously. "You know, how it led you there?"

"Well, it wasn't easy," Hawkeye admitted, wanting to talk to someone about what had happened finally, but was very reluctant about revealing the details. "I had to thank Radar to giving us that clue to go there."

"What clue?" Margaret sipped on her drink, holding it out for more.

As Hawkeye filled her glass again and came back, he replied, "A ton of them. If we looked closely, there was something that led us to Tokyo. From Tokyo, we met with one person, who introduced us to another, and so on and so forth. It became a ridiculous adventure, and one that I am not willing to repeat."

"Why aren't you giving me specifics? I can order you, you know. I'm your superior officer."

"You can't order me to relive something I want to forget." Hawkeye motioned around them with the hand that held his drink.

"No, but you're not answering my question directly."

"Because, Margaret, there are so many things that I don't want to talk about."

"Like us?" Margaret almost put her hands to her mouth, but she held still as she drank, feeling the redness on her face from earlier drain out.

Hawkeye smiled. "What about us, Major Baby?"

"Oh, stop that." Margaret put her drink down, slightly drunk and feeling the effects of the still gin. "Ok, Funny Man, enough is enough. Do you love me or not?"

"Love is such a strong word," Hawkeye admitted, moving away from Margaret as she got up and fell back into her seat with dizziness. "If you want to call it love, then be my guest. I'm not giving anything away."

"And the wife and children back in…what was it, Crabapple Cove?"

Hawkeye laughed deeply. "That rumor? You seriously think I'm married and have kids?"

"What rumor? The nurses all swear it's true. You're just cheating on your wife."

"I only said that to get them away from me when the last ceasefire was announced and then denounced." Hawkeye laughed again. "Come on, Margaret. You're getting drunk or on your way to it, even bringing up such silly gossip about little old me. Take a shower, go to bed and wake up in the morning, being that major we all know and love."

"What if I can't be?" Margaret almost whimpered, scared that the conversation was slowly dwindling down to nothing but old scandals and jokes with drinks. "Nobody can pretend that this did not happen, Hawkeye. Nothing can alter what happened about a week ago, transforming us into people that we never thought we could be. We're more compassionate to each other, just us two, tiptoeing on something that we could not help. We sat there silently, all of us transfixed upon a lie that built itself to proportions that even I still cannot comprehend, but something that seems to have brought us together. And even those who could have helped us were unable to, but knew something more than we ever will."

"I helped," Hawkeye offered carefully, finishing his gin.

"And you were the only one who could," Margaret gushed out, putting down her glass to end the discussion they were having, knowing that they would never have the one they want here in Korea. "You're right, Hawkeye. I need to go to bed soon. I need to give Colonel Potter the duty rooster and I'll hit the sack."

"Come with me?" Hawkeye asked, patting his bed again.

"Oh, you're impossible!" Margaret exclaimed as she got up and headed for the door.

"Margaret." That one word stopped her just as she was at the door, ready to get the duty rooster and go to bed. It was the one call she could not afford not to answer, something that she longed to hear out of the man who had tortured and tormented her for most of the time she had been in the camp, with or without Frank Burns.

"Yes?" Margaret stopped, looking at Hawkeye.

"Look me up later, after this is all done," Hawkeye said. "You don't need to write me some silly letters or call me. Just look me up in Crabapple Cove after the war is over. I'll be there, to tell you everything."

Margaret had to do a double take, pinching her arm to make sure that what she heard was reality. She could not understand why Hawkeye Pierce had told her to find him after the war. It had seemed unattainable, because of all of the directions she could be turned to, but being in the Army seemed to slowly end for her, a phase in her life that seemed to end just when it was beginning. Her career was almost shot to pieces. Even without her father butting in to save her, could she survive if another attack was put forth? Could the tragedy that happened here at the 4077th still smear what was left of her Army career? Could a civilian life be what was best for her, a new life that beckoned to her often?

_Perhaps it is best to fall back, be normal. I can't live with the Army for the rest of my life and not want to be married and have children._

"I will," Margaret finally promised, posed to leave. "I'll look you up later."


	39. So Innocent and Dear

_June 25, 1953_

_Captain Pierce,_

_Attached, you'll find the _Stars and Stripes_ article about Major Leon Floyd and what had happened there at the 4077__th__ the year before, information that was released to them. I must say, I did the best I could in getting the truth to where it needed to be, but there were some factors in there that kept the truth from being told, especially seeing as how the Army felt no responsibility towards harboring a man bent on revenge. I felt that I should write to you, before your read the article, and explain why before your outrage gets you (as well as the rest of the 4077__th__) in trouble._

_My uncle, General Pyle, has known that Major Floyd had been tracking down Major Houlihan's career since she entered the Army in 1939, when she was eighteen, as we all know. He also deliberately planned it so that each move would incriminate her into this crime he himself committed, genuine as her actions were, fueled on by her father. After watching Winifred Curtis and making a deal with General Hannibal (who we are now focusing on with Colonel Flagg and his goons), he went on to murder Curtis, planting evidence that would point out that she had gathered all of you at the 4077__th__ in a plan to uproot the American Dream deliberately. After the events that had conspired afterward, when the investigation had pinpointed to Floyd and you had disappeared to Tokyo with your orderly and some others who escaped, the official report was complied. And let me tell you, Captain, I am not happy about it, as you will be too._

_The bureaucratic story is much different than what reality was. Major Floyd was sent to a unit to investigation Nurse Curtis' untimely death, but they did not mention which unit and how it happened, with few pictures that Floyd had taken at the scene and afterward. There was some information about her being a spy and such, which was "just discovered" (apparently released by those higher than my uncle), but nothing about her being a pretend nurse or anything about kept at the 4077__th__ for the time being, before she was assigned someplace else. However, there was nothing in there about how he murdered her, his plans with General Hannibal and his schemes to get back at what injustice his family was dealt._

_Floyd, in essence, was painted in _Stars and Stripes _as a war hero, murdered by his own men (when one had done the deed and his men had followed along with him) while investigating a murder. There was nothing about him accusing Major Houlihan and the 4077__th__. There was no mention about him controlling the camp, almost killing a priest with Russian Roulette, starving any prisoners or anything like that. My uncle the general also fumed (as well as I did) that there was nothing written about his brutality, carelessness and even his dishonor of this Army. He was sent home to his wife and children as a hero and was given more metals than I count on my own fingers and this was after he died. And all because he shot the enemy and worked against Communism._

_Captain Pierce, in this time in which we look for heroes and try to denounce a war that does not make sense, people like Major Floyd always justify this war in which there is no sense. Like MacArthur before him, he was sent home with a parade, a hero's funeral and a burial that rivaled even the smallest and youngest soldiers in the trenches. His wife and children are unaware of what had happened, but we are sure to be talking with Mrs. Floyd soon. Sergeant Gaines and I are taking a trip to his hometown in a month or so, to let her know what had happened, letting her decide if she wanted to tell their children or not. This is happening because the war is almost over, as you probably know already, and that time for heroes will soon be over when we are all discharged to our civilian duties. The illusion will be shattered._

_I wish you all the best, Captain Pierce. If you need me, contact me at Seoul. I'll be there until July fourth, before I go to the States._

_Sergeant Pyle_

Hawkeye, sitting on his cot in the Swamp as the early July afternoon sun heated the tent, reread the letter over and over again, the words dancing before his eyes. He could not believe what he was reading. Everything that he and the others were promised, all that was said and done, was moot. Now, this monstrosity of lies had taken its place, shoving down everything he had been raised to believe. He shouldn't have been surprised, since he knew that the Army could easily have covered up anything that was their mistake, but to see the official truth run its black and white mumble-jumble into the pages of the media was a tragedy.

Turning the letter over to the bottom, Hawkeye picked up the paper and read the front-page article about Floyd, titled by some reporter, "Investigator Murdered in the Search for Justice". Snorting sarcastically, he read through the article, keeping his outraged opinions to himself for the moment. Sergeant Pyle had been right. Floyd _was_ painted as a war hero, one that served in the Army since before the last war, before Korea was even thought of. Then, he distinguished himself by leading his men into action before being assigned to a crimes' investigation department in 1951, after being wounded twice. After that, he was most famous ("notorious" being Hawkeye's word) for trying to solve the murder of Nurse Winifred Curtis the year afterward. During that time, it was found out that his own men, both Wellington and Wright, murdered the nurse and, in turn, went after him, shooting him in the compound of a M*A*S*H unit close to the front lines, not naming the 4077th as the location.

"All men have been apprehended and subject to an investigation," Hawkeye continued to read, saying it out loud dramatically as BJ read his own letters from Peg and Erin. "Reports have filtered out throughout the year, but have been recently released to the public. Other than the murder of the nurse and Major Floyd, nobody was hurt or killed during the time."

Then, reading silently again, Hawkeye saw the conclusion of the atrocious story.

_The Army has reported that the inquiry into this will continue. In the meantime, the men in question are being held. No comments have further been made by them or their lawyers._

_Funeral arrangements have been made for Major Floyd, when his body was released to his family a month before, in which the Army has stated that some of his body was willed to science and was sent accordingly. The remains of his body were buried with honors in his home of Corpus Christi, Texas._

"Please stay tuned for more news as developments are sent," Hawkeye ended in his best radio voice, annoying BJ as he was disturbed from his letter once more. "This is so-and-so, reporter from _Stars and Stripes_, signing off finally."

"Hawk, can you calm it down some?" BJ asked, waving his letter. "I'm trying to imagine some things in which you can't _possibly_ understand, just by the way my wife wrote her letter. At least, I think I can read in-between the lines and know what she means anyway."

"How can you sit there and read an innocent letter from your wife when this trash has been published?" Hawkeye asked, outraged still as he tossed the letter and newspaper to BJ. As his tentmate read the material, he saw that his face went from pleasurable to angry.

"Are you serious?" BJ asked, all he could ask as he handed back the newspaper and letter to Hawkeye.

"How could I not be? The Army, in its infinite wisdom once more, did not condemn the right people."

"Well, at least Sergeant Pyle and his uncle tried, you know?"

"It's not good enough." Hawkeye was more than fuming. He was _in_ a rage. "We all try to clear our names and get to stay here, all in a hell called Korea, and continue with the work we started with. Major Leon Floyd over there gets killed because he murdered some fake nurse and he gets to go home a war hero, even though he conspired against his country. Tell me that he did not do the best they could!"

"Well, people higher up than General Pyle got the upper hand," BJ explained, pointing out what his nephew's letter said, trying to not gauge his best friend in a battle they could not win. "Look, Hawkeye, there isn't much we can do about it right now. As far as we know, the rumors are true and we're going home soon, hopefully before the end of this month. It's almost a major holiday, people want to get the last shot in before leaving, and we'd go home. What would happen if we caused some trouble before we went home and tried to reverse some Army rewards? How would they look to them, the widow and the kids?"

"Sergeants Pyle and Gaines are trying to sort out the truth," Hawkeye retorted.

"Yes, to the widow and perhaps the kids," BJ replied tartly. "Hawk, don't blow it. We're almost home. I can just _taste_ my wife's lips. Don't get me locked up again. I want to see her and Erin when I leave this place."

Hawkeye gave up on the fight, quietly sitting back on his cot, thinking about the situation. During the past year, so much had happened that he and the rest of the camp forgot what transpired the summer before, even going as far as not talking about it. Margaret had kept her distance from him, the two teasing each other as usual. Colonel Potter had a firmer hand on the camp and growled at any interference, especially when it came from Seoul. Charles was as snobbish as ever, reminding both him and BJ how much he helped during those troubled times…and asked for a drink only in return (which was strange, when Hawkeye and BJ thought about it). Kellye had gone on with her duties, indulging in an affair with an UN delegate and corresponding with him after he left the camp. Klinger had taken Radar's place as company clerk some months before when he was discharged and sent him. Father Mulcahy spent more time ministering to those in need, trying to forget that day in which he nearly died, but with the Lord's grace and protection, he was spared.

Submitting to BJ's logic, Hawkeye finally said from his side of the tent, "Maybe you're right. It's isn't worth the argument."

"See? What did I tell you?" Charles had come into the tent, seeing the newspaper as having some clue as to what happened. "Pierce, don't you know well enough that you don't always know how to play politics?"

"Oh, come on, Charles, don't start," BJ moaned from his side of the tent. "I just got off by telling Hawkeye that it's time to let this one go."

"And as well he should," Charles replied smoothly, changing tactics. "Pierce, you should just ignore what was said. You're going home to whatever town it is that you came from, right?"

"Right," Hawkeye replied mechanically, almost dreaming about Margaret coming to his door, but soon forgetting it when remembering the injustice done to her as well. "Crabapple Cove."

"Yes, well…go back to Crabapple Cove and forget about whatever was printed."

"You always showed me how beautiful it is from the pictures," BJ added.

"I get it, I get it!" Hawkeye yelled, turning away from both Charles and BJ. "Forget about the unfairness done. But it was done to us. How does this turn the wheel of fortune in our favor?"

BJ shrugged his shoulders. "Umm…we're going home soon?"

"Hey, guys!" Klinger suddenly ran into the Swamp, almost knocking Charles over. When the Bostonian sighed and moved to his own cot, the Lebanese clerk continued in an excited tone. "Colonel Potter said that the road to Inchon was clear. We're going to have a Fourth of July party over at the beach!"

While BJ and Hawkeye cheered, the letters and newspaper temporarily forgotten, Charles sneered. "Oh, goodie. Something _boorish_ that we all now have to participate in."

"Oh, come off it, Charles," Hawkeye exclaimed, dancing and then joining hands with Klinger. "It's a trip to the beach! Oh, boy! Oh, boy! Oh, boy!"

Charles only sighed, turning to one side to pour himself a cup of tea, albeit a cold one, as the weather was hot. "And let this be a lesson to all of you," he tried saying, but the yelling was too much, drowning out his words. "Whatever once was so innocent, will never be again. Whatever once was so dear to you, will never be again. A beach trip? Whatever can be as innocent and dear as a beach trip?"


	40. Crabapple Cove, 1955

Rocks thrown into the water ripple in small waves at first, but then turn larger and larger, until they encompass an area of meaning, an area in which you could never escape if you were not fast enough. But once empowered by that ripple, the problem could have even surpassed anything small that you could solve, but cocooned a power in which they was no turning back.

For Margaret, there was never any turning back anymore. After the turmoil and chaos that ensued after that fateful bus ride from Inchon and the war and horrendous events that had preceded behind it, there was no way that the ripple in the waters would be small for her anymore. She was engulfed in a large ripple that would stay with her for the rest of her life, something that would haunt her in nightmares and take apart her life's new dreams.

It had been some time since the war had ended, almost two years at that point. Already, since setting her foot on American soil, the first time since 1949, Margaret had been all over the place, traveling from one hospital to another and working as if she was in Korea once more. Her father had sent her from one place to another afterward for administrative work, when the work was too much for her, hoping that she would settle down and stay in the Army. The latter, however, was not part of Margaret's plans. Tired of the tugging and pulling, she pushed for a discharge, one that had been put in front of her since the Korean War ended. Because of her service of over ten years, the Army debated on her fate for over a year as she worked behind a desk while other nurses played, perhaps looking back to when she was accused of murdering a nurse, before releasing her to a civilian life.

In those two years, trying to get out of the Army and bouncing from one place to another, Margaret had kept in touch with everything from the 4077th. Sure, there was a reunion of a few people here and there, but nothing on a grand scale like what was talked about. Letters, phone calls and perhaps visits highlighted her days when she was working, brightened her life especially, and even took the monotony out, when she thought that all hope was lost, but only one person did not reach out to many people, the one person she knew she had to look for.

Hawkeye Pierce, since the bus ride back from Inchon, was a changed man. Considered crazy, locked away and even set loose by Sidney Freedman, Hawkeye was uneasily becoming a man prone to breaking down. As the war was coming to a close, he served on without comment, without wavering, but the bus ride had taken a toll on him. Hiding himself, isolating much like Father Mulcahy did after his hearing was lost, Hawkeye chose to keep close to the hometown he talked about often when in Korea, _dreamed_ about going back to. He didn't call too many people, was not one to write notes to, and kept to himself. He worked with the people he grew up with and did not seem to care about those he had worked with while away from that home.

BJ seemed to be the only person who knew about Hawkeye's mind frame and what might be going on. When Margaret had called him, maybe a year after they left Korea, he said nothing and was silent. When Margaret pressed on, receiving no answer and giving up on any answers, BJ spoke before she hung up. It was not a response that Margaret expected either.

"I'm not supposed to be saying this, but I will for you, Margaret," BJ began slowly, making Margaret's heart sink. "Hawkeye hasn't been adjusting to civilian life has much as he hoped to, even if it's been a while. We're doing ok, but he's…different. He's been doing somewhat reasonable so far and I just talked with him the other day, but he hasn't said much concerning going home or what's been going on. He's hiding something."

Margaret expected worse, but thought that whatever BJ said could be fixed. She could go over to wherever Hawkeye was, take up his offer of information, and find out the truth. After all, she deserved that after all that time. She wanted to know what Hawkeye had done to save her and the camp so long ago, but the war seemed to have caught up to all of them. Adjusting was ideal surely, but time healed all wounded.

Or so she thought.

"Think anyone can visit him?" Margaret asked, putting her toe in some water that would ripple outward, that circle that would surround her and perhaps another.

"I wouldn't advise it, but I've seen him since we left Korea," BJ replied, but he was somehow skeptical as to Margaret's intentions, whether they were for friendly concern or for more private reasons. "Like I said, he's not doing badly, but I would always wait to see him. Try contacting him and seeing if he would come out of his hiding places. Ask him out for a drink. I did. Little good it did him though."

BJ laughed at some memory from long ago, Margaret chuckling along with him, as if knowing what he was talking about. At least outwardly, BJ was practically recovered from most of the ordeals from overseas (even from being accused of murder along with her), but Margaret could not tell. She could not tell what was going on anymore, especially since she was always in the dark. She was without a clue as to who and what had happened in that place so long ago that she had nearly forgotten what it was like to be a prisoner and accused when you were innocent. Yes, it was good to have that, but the uncertainly still plagued her. She needed her search to end.

With the suggestion from BJ in mind though, Margaret made her next call as soon as she disconnected with the blonde surgeon. After waiting patiently for twenty minutes while operator after operator dispatched her call to the other side of the country (and to one town without much civilization), she finally reached the end of the line. Unfortunately for her though, she had also reached Hawkeye's father, who sounded so much like his son that she almost called him by the wrong name. Immediately after identifying himself as Pierce Senior though, Margaret talked amicably with Daniel Pierce for a few minutes when she realized what had happened, telling him who she was and expressing some concern over Hawkeye. When she received no more intimate information from him as well except that Hawkeye was "the usual" sulking self, she asked that Hawkeye call her back, giving him a number to reach her at. She warned that it might change soon, but that she'd call when it did.

There had been no answering calls. Hawkeye was as silent as a grave.

For over a year after that call, Margaret peppered Crabapple Cove with her calls occasionally when she moved, always getting Daniel Pierce on the other end. She asked the same questions gently, never seeming like she was stalking Hawkeye and always expressing her care and concern, and let go of the call when nothing came of it. She heard Hawkeye in the background a few times, but always just coming back from working. She did not want to seem eager then too, only saying that she'll try again later, when he was more refreshed and not tired of seeing his patents all day.

Later, to Margaret's mind of course, would have been months, days in which filled her life with work and a shadow in her mind, one that made her think. In those months though, she thought long and hard about her feelings for Hawkeye. Especially when she was eying her discharge with some happiness was she always thinking of that dark-haired surgeon who always shouted out a joke or two, complaining about food and regulations and even performing what was considered a miracle. She thought back to when she was with others, Frank Burns and Donald Penobscott above all, and snorted sarcastically as she did, mocking herself for putting her life in their hands. Even without Hawkeye's commitment issues, there was a chance that they could have a shot on what seemed to be a growing flame inside each of them. That was better than a married weasel and a cheating ex-husband.

And that kiss they gave each other before leaving Korea…

Finally, after being discharged from the Army by September of 1954, Margaret had enough. Living near Colonel and Mrs. Potter at the time, visiting them and hoping for something better than a mundane existence, she planned. With the little money left to her from the Army and from her father, the latter displeased with her decision and almost disowning her, she schemed on how to get back into Hawkeye's life and to play upon the offer he had set for her, one she promised herself would be easy to keep.

Oh, but it was tough though. With little money to pay the bills and no steady job now that nursing was somewhat of a strain and a reminder of death, Margaret wormed her way into places to make more money without losing her dignity. Waitressing became a quick favorite after driving taxis, earning her more money as she also nursed her pride and a career that went up in smoke after a war destroyed it. It took some months, but towards Memorial Day of 1955, when she declined an offer from the Potters to a BBQ at their place (with the two suspecting she had something up her sleeve), she put her plan into action.

It was a secret nobody knew, not even Colonel Potter or BJ. Margaret inwardly rejoiced about it as she packed her things when all celebrated another year when summer began in sunshine and love, readying herself for a trip of a lifetime, something she wouldn't have dared to have done before the war. Before then, she was just another nurse being passed around from one general to the next, when she earned her nickname of "Hot Lips" Houlihan. Now, she was a new woman, a _changed_ woman, that needed to find her flame and either extinguish it or let it swallow her up.

In the dead of night, when the train was leaving the night before Memorial Day was to begin (Sundays being the best nights to leave, especially after all had gone to church), Margaret bought her ticket north and hopped onboard, imagining all the way what she would say to Hawkeye when she reached his home. She would first demand what had happened when Major Floyd held her hostage, but that was to be expected for later. It was too rude, she realized. A simple greeting perhaps, but maybe she would ask how he was doing. After all, it did seem courteous, right?

_I don't know what to say!_

Margaret panicked for the whole trip north with this one thought, bordering on paranoia and nervousness as she debated what to say to Hawkeye when she saw him, something unlike the old woman she was in and before Korea. By the time the train reached Portland over twelve hours later, some miles from Crabapple Cove and where she was getting off, she decided on nothing yet except a greeting and a smile. And she had a small distance to go before reaching his home, wherever it was, so there was time yet to think of something more to say.

And there was another problem. After getting off in Portland and then hitchhiking a ride in a taxi to Crabapple Cove, Margaret didn't know where to go. She thought of asking the driver, but he didn't know what she was talking about and only knew how to get into Crabapple Cove. He only took her to the town lines, received his payment from Margaret and left quickly for another fare. Behind him stood the former head nurse from Korea, who could not decide which direction to go in. Behind her were woods, where the driver headed off to, but before her was a small town near the ocean with few roads and fewer residents.

Margaret thought of asking someone for help, but declined the staring and curious eyes when a taxi pulled up the curb to where she was. As she got in, the driver smiled, a genuine one that she had not seen in years, and took her bag. Asking where she needed to go, Margaret explained that she knew of a person in town, but did not know where he was. She gave Hawkeye's full name, his occupation and that she had been in Korea with him.

"Oh, the womanizer?" The driver exclaimed gleefully as he drove on in another direction, down towards the waters for about a mile. "He's been a recluse since he came back, quiet even. Why would you want to visit a guy like _that_?"

"For sentimental reasons, I guess" Margaret responded, not willing to give away her secret just yet. "How far is it?"

The driver shrugged his shoulders with indifference at her reply as he neared the home down the road, only a little more than a mile away from the town lines, pointing it out to Margaret as he pulled into a long, dirt road driveway. "Here we are, Miss."

Margaret got out immediately, paying the driver and tugging at her shirt collar as she took her luggage. It was a cool summer day for a town in Maine like this for Memorial Day surely, but it shouldn't have been enough to cause her to sweat. She was nervous, but it did not stop her from walking up the rest of the dirt driveway, up the stairs to the old, creaking porch and knocking loudly. The house itself was huge and she was sure that nobody would hear her knock, so she tried again.

There was no answer. Margaret was disappointed to have wasted so much money and time on a trip that served nothing but her curiosity. Saddened by the loss, she turned to leave, willing to walk into town to flag another driver down and go back to Portland. What she did not expect, though, was the door opening behind her as she walked down the stairs and her name being called so gently, so softly even, that she almost could not hear the voice.

When she turned to the voice, Margaret saw Hawkeye in the entranceway, holding open the door. Looking older than she remembered him, she studied the light wrinkles on his face, the black hair that had turned whiter than when the war had ended and even the lack of uniform that she remembered him in. Hawkeye in a civilian world was almost unheard of for Margaret and it made her jump, but not enough for him to notice.

_Or did he?_

"Oh, Hawkeye!" Margaret ran, dropping her luggage, and lunged into Hawkeye's open arms. "You said to look you up –"

Hawkeye interrupted Margaret with the light touch of his pointing finger to her mouth. Then, he gave her a quick kiss, righting her and releasing her from his arms.

"What took you so long?" Hawkeye only asked as Margaret straightened herself out without assistance, embarrassed that he saw her so excited and eager to see him, of all people.

"Oh, this and that," Margaret replied, not willing to give up anything yet, but more intent on looking into those blue eyes and asking the same question she had asked him so long ago. She needed to ask Hawkeye if he loved her (after all the stories she needed to hear), but then was not the time to inquire about something as serious as love.

Well, to Hawkeye, it was serious anyway.

"Same here."

"I missed you, Hawkeye. I really did."

"I did too."

Margaret didn't know what to say afterward, so tongue-tied she was. She said nothing more after admitting to missing him, putting her hands behind her back and playing shy and hard to get. However, she knew this did not work well with Hawkeye, so she kept to herself, waiting for Hawkeye to make the next move. The surgeon said nothing in return as well, seeing Margaret so happy to be with him in his hometown (and also noticing that she did not have an idea on what to do next), but offered his arm instead, wanting to lead her back to the house he grew up in.

It took all of Margaret's strength in her mind to take that arm, so poised as she was to leave. As Hawkeye also picked up her luggage where she dropped it, they went inside together, quiet as the house settled into another holiday. They heard voices on the other side of the house, most likely outside in the sunshine, but Hawkeye paid them no heed. Instead, he situated Margaret in the living room, sitting next to her as he paid her bag on the floor.

"So, tell me everything," he started awkwardly, not knowing what else to ask the women he had dreamed about in Korea.

Margaret said nothing, losing herself again in the blue pool of Hawkeye's eyes. Then, pulling out of there, she sighed with little frustration, but more with longing. Imagines floated in her mind about her incarceration demanded by Major Floyd the murderer (who was hailed as a war hero, if she remembered right), being a prisoner without any faith or hope and wishing upon a star that someone would rescue her, a princess in the tower. Then, she held her own, being the woman that her father was sure to be proud of, and smiled broadly at Hawkeye.

"No, why don't you start?" she only said, keeping her smile so unadulterated that Hawkeye had to grin with her. "I want to know everything. Tell me about Tokyo."

Hawkeye had a clue as to what Margaret was talking about, but was caught between her and the family party outside. He yearned to bring out outside with the family, to introduce her finally, but was reluctant to when he heard her request. He promised her that he would tell her about the search for justice, when in the end there was barely any, and thought about how much peace it would give Margaret, who had given up much of her life to nothing but regulations. Recounting the murder, the body's discovery and then her arrest, he started to find words that he thought could not have come about again, especially after a war so crazy and senseless, and gave Margaret a picture of the old Hawkeye Pierce that had been missing for such a long time.

The stone had been cast into the water now. The ripple had covered them both. It was time to spread their wings and fly.

Continuing to smile, Hawkeye began in the boldest manner Margaret had heard from him in a long time. "Well, once upon a time, there was once an Army major who liked to kick everyone's behind, but was soon to have hers brought back to her in the worst way possible…"

* * *

**It's been almost three years since I started this story. I never thought that I was going to finish it up, but I did. I know it wasn't much of a story, especially with the whole murderer and all (I wasn't thinking complex or anything), but I am hoping that you all enjoyed it. Now, o****nward with new stories, especially for this board! I'll try to post more often in the future, even with work and school, but I cannot promise anything. I will promise to try and finish things up when I can though. And as readers, I do want to thank you for your patience and understanding. :)**

**Lastly, I also want to thank everyone who had stuck with me and this story for so long (you know who you are. I won't name anyone) and the silent readers that made my traffic so high with this story. Thank you for a journey I never thought to end and end so far away from the beginning. Have a great holiday season!**


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